This morning I woke up in Oslo and had a new realization about my travel debacle from the day before: I felt defeated. I didn’t go into the city of Copenhagen because I didn’t want to inadvertently mess up an already exceptionally challenging travel day. My logic was particularly flawed: just because one thing got royally messed up (see: Flight 1438) doesn’t mean that everything else was going to get botched. I am a human, not a robot, and my emotions and level of fatigue do impact my level of performance.
Overall, I felt defeated. I already had been through the travel wringer and I didn’t need to feel worse if I couldn’t connect with Claire-Adele.
This morning, I saw Munch’s The Scream. What impressed me the most was the number of people who wanted to seen it, like it was the local Mona Lisa. Can all of these people so deeply relate to the angst and agony? Can I?
No comments:
Post a Comment