In what universe did I think I was going to get any writing done on my flight?
As it turned out, we boarded an hour late, and then sat on the tarmac for an extra hour after boarding, so by the time we took off I was too exhausted to do much of anything other than read a few pages of a novel and watch some moving images on the little screen in front of me.
Overall, however, the journey went as well as it could have. I arrived in Göttingen with both self and stuff intact yesterday afternoon, and am now happily engaged in a fantastic workshop on forms of popular seriality.
I will hope for an opportunity to do some of that writing I was thinking about soon.