An Interruption

I was sitting in the Caf tonight, writing an essay due tomorrow for my "Reading and Writing Essays" class when Sarah and Sarah came in and sat down, destroying my concentration and train of thought. Of course, I couldn't tell them to go away, and it wouldn't've mattered if I had. My plane of thought was gone. Now I sit and try to finish my Bartonesque essay on the "homing" qualities DIA has for me, and I can't. I really wish I could. With what I had going, I was pretty sure I could soon write a book to rival Barton Sutter's "Cold Comfort" which describes Duluth as a place to heal his broken soul. My book would be called "Plane Comfort" and would describe various international airports that can heal my broken soul starting with DEN, ORD, and GBR. But I have lost my inspiration. Woe is me!