It’s been a weird week so far. I’ve spent the last 48 hours in a hospital room with a child on steroids due to some asthma-on-fire. She’s fine; I’m fine; we’re all fine. In the big scheme of things, we’re fantastic. If I want to get petty, I’ll say that averaging two hours of sleep each night on a lumpy couch kind of sucks and I wouldn’t push away some serious coddling right now.
Yes, by all means… Brush my hair. Make me dinner. Rub my shoulders. Run my errands.
We are now home and showered (thank God) and I’m pounding that caffeine hard because Balmy Hospital Visit 2014 ended right before SE Asia Trip 2014 and I’ve got some hustling to do before I shower my children in kisses and pre-trip gifts (full admission – it’s whatever) and hop on fourteen planes.
Which brings me to this: I’m exaggerating when I say fourteen planes, but not by much. To get to my destination, I have to take three flights of varying lengths: two of them about five hours long, but one is a whopping sixteen hours.
I’m going to be on a plane for twenty-six hours…. and then another twenty-six hours.
Now, the plane should probably be the least of my concern. I’ll be observing some heavy situations and becoming privy to some really hard circumstances – all of this I’m sort of mentally preparing for privately… sort of. To be honest I’m wavering between reading an overwhelming amount of material and then actually forcing myself to focus on trivial things because the trip will be heavy enough on its own. Does that even make sense? SUPER HEAVY TRIP COMING UP, but I’ve read too many awful stories so now I need to focus on if this particular town carries my brand of tampons or not. IDK.
Can we talk about the twenty-six hours of flight time? Particularly, any suggestions for how to remain in an enclosed space for sixteen hours without losing my mind? Petty, right? I mean it feels petty until I buckle in on my first flight and blow through an issue of Fast Company before the plane even takes off and then I start panicking. My usual MO is to get on the plane, hope to fall asleep, and try not to drool on the person next to me, but I’m not a big international traveler, so this is an entirely different game.
Should I pack snacks? Is it weird if I start doing yoga moves in the aisle? Compression socks… those are a thing, right? But are they just a thing for grandmothers or should I get some? Is it reasonable to expect that I’ll get a ton of work done on the plane? I could write twenty-six blog posts! I could knit a sweater! I have an aisle seat for mobility, but that means I lose the “sort of pillow” that the window seat provides. Should I bring a pillow? I think I have an old Nook around here somewhere.. the non backlit kind. Maybe I could read books? And take drugs for motion sickness… and drugs for sleeping…
Cool. Well. Thanks for letting me get all of this pettiness out there. If this post is completely over the top, let’s blame it on my cocktail of Diet Coke and sleep deprivation. Still waiting for someone to brush my hair and make me a milkshake.