city of blinding lights

I’m in the air again, this time with Allison beside me. She’s asleep, of course. She did stay awake all the way to the airport though, which is no small task considering it was a 90 minute drive. We’re descending from 32,000 feet preparing to land at DFW. The lighted excited below is sprawling.
This trip is for entirely different noble reasons than my last trip. This is a selfish getaway to be with Allison without all the cares of normal life. Nothing will be normal this weekend. No meals to prepare. No taxi service to friends’ houses. No Saturday night labor, Sunday morning delivery, or post-partum depression.
We land at 9:00pm, and until noon on Monday, we’re free from responsibility, except to each other. Tomorrow we’ll sleep LATE and be lazy all afternoon. We’ll eat some supper at Chuy’s and head to the American Airlines Arena to see U2. Please make your jealous remarks in the comment box.
We’ve been planning this trip for a long, long time, and you wouldn’t believe the obstacles that have been tossed in our path to keep it from happening. But we’re airborne, and for now, that feels promising.
Yesterday was a panic to secure a logistical nightmare of collapsed childcare plans and try to see that our progeny were cared for and didn’t feel abandoned. Last night was a mad dash to try to make the house look like hurricane gamma hadn’t come through. Today at work, my students tried to distract me by singing every U2 song you can imagine under their breath or blatantly out loud.
But we’re almost there. Still gotta get a car, find our hotel and get giddy about the concert.