My daily schedule is so up in the air it requires its own air traffic controller.
My desk diary has become a busy airport with multiple runways, surly TSA officials, fast food franchises, excessively long walk to the departure gates and a broken baggage retrieval system. Alas, there is no duty-free shopping.
I should probably wear a bright orange windsock on my head.
I definitely need to resolve that ongoing industrial dispute with my ground crew union.
Most of my appointments are little twin-engine, puddle-jumper things buzzing around aimlessly. A few old, fixed wing cargo planes crawl across the tarmac from hangar to hangar. But it's those two or three jumbo jets circling in an apparently endless holding pattern that cause the delays, cancellations and backlogs. Those carbon footprint implanting behemoths burning up all my precious fuel by going nowhere and back every day.
This is your captain speaking: we were supposed to land at Jinx Corporation today for a early morning sales meeting. Unfortunately the people at Jinx are experiencing a problem with their conference room air conditioning, so it looks like we won't be leaving until noon tomorrow. But we are third in line for take off.
That's fine. I'll sit and wait for the chance of a contract with Jinx Corporation.
I'd just feel more confident if someone else hadn't done the inflight magazine crossword already.
