8:15PM
Screw you, 9/11 terrorists, for many things, including being
the reason I have to arrive at the airport three hours early for international flights.
After sitting at the gate forever, I really don’t understand why people rush to get in line for
boarding. These chairs are pretty
comfortable. I could stretch my
legs, toes pointed, while doing circles with my arms without awkwardly bumping
into a stranger. Right now I
guarantee there’s a huge dude at the front of the plane blocking the aisle
with his beastly backside while taking a ridiculous amount of time to smash his
carryon into the overhead. If I
had rushed to get on I’d be standing behind him, a long line of people huffing and
glaring behind me. Mr. Beastly
would give me a little smile and a nod and lean forward, pressing his belly
into the head of the woman sitting in the aisle seat (who is now the one
huffing and glaring), so I can hold my breath and try to decide if I’d rather
rub front-to-butt or butt-to-butt.
No thanks. I’ll
wait in the holding tank with all of the other sane, rational seasoned
travelers until that guy is seated. We’ll be breathing each other’s air for
the next 14 hours, so we should savor our freedom as long as freaking possible.
Breathe.
Relax. Not so
negative. Do that gratitude list,
like mom suggested.
- At least the flying metal bus has an endless supply of free wine, even if it does taste like it came from a spigot on a tanker truck.
- I’m traveling, so even if something doesn’t go the way I planned, I can chalk it up to the cosmos, rather than an issue that needs my immediateandallconsuming-attention.
- My carpal tunnel and numb-from-my-desk-chair-ass have 3 months to heal, although the tradeoff may be contracting a tropical parasite.
- Since I gave my notice, my eye isn’t twitching as much and I don’t have to remind myself to breath anymore. (Don’t think about the dent in your bank account that this trip is causing, don’t think about the dent in your bank account that this trip is causing…)
10:00PM
I made it to my seat, all settled in. I have the row to myself- thank
god. We’re barreling along at
almost 600 miles per hour, 39,000 feet above the ground and my eardrums have
finally stopped popping. I don’t
think I can stomach watching a shitty chick flick with crappy acting (why is
every flight playing “Eat, Pray, Love” these days?)...
To Kpando or bust.
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