It’s two minutes to three in the morning, New Zealand time. The inflight trip-monitor-thingie tells me we’re at 11277m from sea level, and 3 hours and 55 minutes from Los Angeles. I’m not actually on-line, just typing away in the dark, in my steel tube in the sky. I’ll post this later, when I get hooked into the inter-webby.
I’ve tried to sleep, and have had some, but I’m awake now. The rest of the cabin is asleep. The window shades are glowing an orangey-red, which I guess means that the sun is shining outside of our artificial darkness.
I’m in the pointy end of the plane, two seats back from the nose-cone. That’s novel. I’ve never been in the pointy bit before. It’s kinda cool. The cabin in this bit only has 14 seats, so it feels quite exclusive. But then again, and here’s a thought that I had as I woke to someone else’s snoring, it’s also like a boarding school dorm. We all have our flash lie-flat business class seats, and with them all flat and bed-like, it’s very much like boarding school, with tiny single beds designed for sleep, or at least the illusion of sleep. And like boarding school, sleep is easy for some, and hard for others.
Usually I sleep great on a plane. I guess it’s the thought of another four hour flight after this one, and then getting to Houston in time for “real” bedtime that is getting in the way of good, deep sleep. I’d rather nap between here and Houston, and try and get a good night’s sleep in the hotel, than not get any sleep in Houston and spend the next day in meetings in Houston yawning my scone off. That make sense? Makes sense in my head. I think.
So this isn’t the first trip I’ve been on. Far from it. Lost count. Too many to try and dredge up for the sake of a scoreboard. But by far this one has been the hardest, in terms of leaving home and my Girls. My analytical brain has spent much time and energy trying to figure out why this one has been so heart crushing. It’s longer than usual, but not the longest. It’s in a new place, but not the furthest I’ve been from home. There are many, many reasons, I guess, why this is hard. And it should be hard. The day this becomes easy and routine for us scares me.
And, just when we were getting to some meat and substance, here’s the abrupt ending. My battery is running flat. I’m on a plane and don’t have the right power connection. Gotta go.
Oh, and the dorm’s stirring.
I’ve tried to sleep, and have had some, but I’m awake now. The rest of the cabin is asleep. The window shades are glowing an orangey-red, which I guess means that the sun is shining outside of our artificial darkness.
I’m in the pointy end of the plane, two seats back from the nose-cone. That’s novel. I’ve never been in the pointy bit before. It’s kinda cool. The cabin in this bit only has 14 seats, so it feels quite exclusive. But then again, and here’s a thought that I had as I woke to someone else’s snoring, it’s also like a boarding school dorm. We all have our flash lie-flat business class seats, and with them all flat and bed-like, it’s very much like boarding school, with tiny single beds designed for sleep, or at least the illusion of sleep. And like boarding school, sleep is easy for some, and hard for others.
Usually I sleep great on a plane. I guess it’s the thought of another four hour flight after this one, and then getting to Houston in time for “real” bedtime that is getting in the way of good, deep sleep. I’d rather nap between here and Houston, and try and get a good night’s sleep in the hotel, than not get any sleep in Houston and spend the next day in meetings in Houston yawning my scone off. That make sense? Makes sense in my head. I think.
So this isn’t the first trip I’ve been on. Far from it. Lost count. Too many to try and dredge up for the sake of a scoreboard. But by far this one has been the hardest, in terms of leaving home and my Girls. My analytical brain has spent much time and energy trying to figure out why this one has been so heart crushing. It’s longer than usual, but not the longest. It’s in a new place, but not the furthest I’ve been from home. There are many, many reasons, I guess, why this is hard. And it should be hard. The day this becomes easy and routine for us scares me.
And, just when we were getting to some meat and substance, here’s the abrupt ending. My battery is running flat. I’m on a plane and don’t have the right power connection. Gotta go.
Oh, and the dorm’s stirring.
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