Why Do I Feel So F*%&!ing Good?

It turned out, for the strangest reason of all: no reason

It was a Wednesday, I was on an airplane which is not a place I generally like to be. Window seat, exit row, a man sitting next to me with his elbows over his side of the armrest. Double-masked. I had a notebook open with a page filled with some scribbles, lines of items to attend to upon my return; but most of my…