I was a bad reader this week. And a bad traveler.
I went on a trip and did not bring and adequate reading material.
I finished reading "Infected" on my flight from Seattle to Minneapolis (awesome book -- review coming sometime next week). Then I picked up Wired and finished an article about industrial espionage in Formula 1 racing. That polished off that issue. Next, I turned to my copy on Inc only to discover that I finished it two trips back.
So on the trip back I found myself heading to a restaurant in the Minneapolis airport with nothing to amuse myself. This has never happened. I'm almost always carrying extra books and magazines.
I don't mind eating alone in a restaurant. I know some people find it uncomfortable, but as long as I have something to read, it's fine. It's a good thing I can dine solo. With a high travel job, lacking that skill would mean I'd starve. Though that could be an interesting diet plan...
A quick trip to the airport bookstore solved the problem, of course. And now, I am one third of the way through Chuck Kosterman's Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. So it's been an odd week.
And if you were wondering which airport has the worst security lines, the contest is over. I've concluded it's Grand Forks, ND (GFK). Keep that in mind the next time you travel there.