the great joy of the airport

I have to say... I love airports. I dropped off a friend today really early this morning at the airport before I went to work... and I really love airports. I get to fly out next month and I'm psyched because I love wandering around airports. Something about the fact that you could go anywhere you wanted to. I think because the idea of running away still appeals to me every once and a while... just to take off and not tell anyone. Sometimes, I get in a self-pity mode and think no one would even notice if I was gone except if they needed a ride somewhere. My new middle name should be "taxi". I know I'm complaining, but I actually don't mind driving people or being able to help them out when they need it... it's all good. Just sometimes... sigh. I wish I didn't have to. It's all good.

They're draining the water mains today outside my work place... and the street's kinda flooded. Looks cool. I'm done my job here in 7 days... not 7 consecutive days mind you, but 7 days nonetheless. I want to make them great, the last 7 days, but I really don't enjoy this job... so I don't know. Good thing it's part-time. Still muddling over what I want to do as a career... I don't know. I've thought about becoming a paramedic, a doctor, a lawyer, a butcher, a baker, a candlestick-maker (just jokes on the last three)... and all in all, I don't know. I don't really want to be a teacher, which is like the default job it seems for most of my friends. Don't know what to do? Go into education. I'm sure they'll do great.