Flight Time

Writing this from my office 33,000 feet up.

This month’s travel schedule has been challenging at best. The hardest part of it all, other than leaving my family, is the sitting. All the sitting-endless hours of sitting. I am pretty sure my ass has gotten measurably flatter in the course of the past 30 days!

The regional flights that are two hours are more manageable. I have my time mastered to the minute- Play maximum lives on Candy Crush (25 minutes), catch up on Facebook ( 15-17 minutes or until I can’t stomach any more political posts or cute puppy tricks-whichever comes first) breeze through an US Weekly, focusing mostly on pictures of celebrities, mostly whom I do not know because apparently my contemporaries are no longer hot paparazzi bait (47 minutes), do brain training on Luminosity (15 minutes if I am feeling sharp- 2 minutes if I am not), Word Search (5 minutes) and the rest of the time search LinkedIn for jobs that don’t require me to be on a plane every week.

The transcontinental flights, like the one I am on right now not only flatten my ass, they whoop it! You would think that since I fly so much that I would be First Class Status- nope.  Too many different airlines because, unlike my husband who will take a layover to be a Delta loyalist to earn max points, I take whatever is quickest without stops.

The closest I get to First Class is row 12 in “Comfort Row” which for 60 bucks allows you to extend your legs past 90 degrees and gets you close enough to hear the clinking of ceramic plates and metal forks of the privileged flyers in front of me.

I spend the extra money not just for the leg extension but also because I have a theory that there is more oxygen at the front of the plane making me less tired from the flight (this is probably not accurate but please, no one prove me wrong  because psychologically, it makes me a happier flyer.)

The rebel that I am, I also take advantage of the First Class bathroom, sweeping back the curtain like a boss and ignoring the disapproving stares of the flight attendants. Five hours in on a flight toward home where I am cranky as hell and my body is in atrophy from the lack of space, I will challenge anyone to give me crap about it- bring it bitches, let’s rumble over restrooms!

Okay, so it’s obvious that it’s been a brutal travel month and my patience is as deflated as my butt but with each hour I get closer to landing, the tension fades and the anticipation of reuniting with my family takes hold. As Dorothy says, “There is no place like home” and I am glad to be on my way!

 

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