The plane lands with a jerk as I reach under the seat to rescue my purse from its lonely spot on the floor.

I stretch my fingers into the darkness hoping my purse is the only thing I find. This is the last leg on a whirlwind of business trips. The first one to Baltimore and the second to Boulder. My team and I were in and out of each city in less than 36 hours. In Boulder, the whirlwind included scenery that takes your breath, steals it and then gives it back again.

How about a mountain with your coffee?

But now all I want is my purse, my keys, my car, John Bear and my bed. In that order. Benjamin will have to wait until the morning because he is already asleep.

I turn my face toward a piece of chewing gum the passenger before me had wedged into the pleather fold of the seat pocket. If I am facing it, there’s no way the gum can capture my hair. After accepting the gum’s existence at the start of our two hour flight I then tried to envision the type of person who would actually do such a thing.

My first imaginary gum chewing culprit is a 10-year-old boy with an attitude. But women and children are few and far between on these business flights. I throw the kid away and settle on a vision of a slightly overweight middle-aged man with dark shadows under his eyes, greasy hair and a bruised ego courtesy of the cute blond chick who had refused to give him her phone number at a bar the night before.

Your classic chain reaction of rejection and hurt. She hurt me so I am going to stick my gum right here so I can ruin someone else’s day. If you can think of a more probable explanation for the gum on the seat than I am all ears. The gum leads me to thinking about anger and why we harbor it, why we carry hatred around with us like a heavy bag, like a tasteless and old nasty piece of gum. Not just single moms, but people in general. Why is it so damn hard to drop that baggage?

Is it because we don’t know how to live without defining ourselves by our past? And how do we shed the vicious and often completely misguided labels others give us?

When we finally do we’ll drop pounds of anger. But many of us carry it around taking it out on undeserving strangers, our own family, a first date or the lady behind the counter – and, of course, plane seats.

Just drop it, already. There’s too much life to live. And get some sleep, that will help too.

P.S.

Speaking of  baggage. Mr. Man texted me during my rushed business trip to Boulder, Colorado asking about this recipe. I’m telling you, they are the best pancakes on Earth.

Related posts:

1. Oh me, oh my. The sparks are flying.
2. Single Mom Rules to Live By? Ideas?
3. Strangers on a plane.