Yesterday was a good day. I was only scheduled to fly once in the afternoon, but after some people failed the test in the morning, I took one of their spots and ended up flying two pretty decent sorties. Cash money. That meant I was to fly my check ride today, outprocess, get shitfaced tonight, and fly back to CA tomorrow. Fantasies of dim sum, pho, hottubbing and other extracurricular activities were finally within my reach. Morale -> 95%.
Oh no, I planned to soon.
Once again I woke up early from anxiety, but I felt pretty good this morning. I studied, I planned out my sortie, I said goodbye to some of the guys who left today. And then came the word, not more than one hour before pre-brief: two engines quit while in the pattern, and the entire fleet is grounded until further notice. Sunny California just went up in smoke. Morale -> 40%.
This is like a game we play. Plan, prepare, wait, repeat. This is the reality of our profession. Yeah, yeah, we fly expensive machines and make them do cool things. But we still don't run our lives.
Not relevant:
But I'd still take my job over yours any day.
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Just a bit closer than most to that big blue pie.
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