Two hours by cab in rush hour traffic, get there an hour early, twelve hours in the air, an hour on the road on the other end. The travel meat grinder awaits me in about six hours.
I have my toys, my books, my drugs, my distractions. I have six episodes of Kitchen Nightmares that I just downloaded. I wanna see Gordon go off on Crazy Amy. I paid an extra $80 for three more inches in a bulkhead seat because I'm a large-ish person and typical airline seats are built for nine-year-old girls with scoliosis.
Memorial for my dad on Thursday night. My family seems to be planning something touchy-feely and honest, which can't help but end poorly, given the occupants of said family. If you hear of a group of drunks being arrested by MPs for illegal distribution of human remains on government property, that'll be us.
My conversation with my sister:
Me: "So, what have you been doing?"
Sis: "Mostly? Staring at each other uncomfortably and watching TV. Tony Bourdain is on."
Me: "This is the party you insist I fly five thousand miles to join? Why do you hate me?"
Sis: "Misery loves company."
Take care of yourselves, friends. And if my plane vanishes into the ether, know that I loved you.