Excuse the Hiatus
This week I experienced a new phenomenon.
Flying isn't fun anymore.
I used to love the whole flying scenario. Packing, excitement, traveling, planes, little packs of pretzels, sleeping for hours on the plane, arriving at a cool location.
Now - it goes more like this:
- Run around frantically trying to get everything into the suitcase that I'll need the next morning.
- Attempt to clean the house enough so that I'm not embarrassed when friend Katie comes to play with/feed the kitten.
- Set alarm for the ass-crack of dawn.
- Get on cramped stuffy plane that's hot.
- Find out that I'm sitting next to two children under the age of 3 and a pregnant mother "do you mind if we take your window seat? they love to look out." - ummmm "yea I frickin MIND!"
- Get spit on, drooled on, jumped on, kicked, poked, and prodded. (ok, I don't mind if it's my kid or even a relatives/friend's kid - but not some stranger's kid)
- Get on another hot stuffy cramped plane.
- Girl sitting in my seat says "Oh sorry I took your seat by accident, I'll move" - why thank you. "but I accidentally spilled some perfume, I hope it doesn't bother you". (oh no, why would THAT bother me!)
- finally get home from stupid business trip with no fun pictures, no tan lines, and definitely no fun stories.
- Wake up next morning for work.