It is twelve thirty eight am. In less than twenty hours I will be in the air, my entire flesh and soul the responsibility of four rolls-royce engines. You know, for a month and a half, I used to sit right next to the flying monsters; cigarette smoke going up my nostrils, (not down, I dont smoke!), swirling all over the shop, and just like the tobacco in the salems or davidoffs, I used to burn. There's something about the smoking room next to Harry's at T2 that made me feel happy. Maybe the fact that there were so many Aetos or CAAS bastards slacking there. And that i was the only one who would be flying away. The only one who would come back as a passanger, sit next to the roar of the engine, and smile at the rest of the gang. Anticipation?
That was then. Somewhere within the last few days it has all cooled down, and now the whole idea is looking more like a chore than anything. Must be the repeated failed attempts at shopping. And packing's been a nightmare. It is midnight and I am still packing, if you must know.
No, it has not hit me yet. And as one comando comrade put it (by the way, the shoes are nice la.. dont worry!), it will only hit me once I am off the ground. That too, if I am in any state to realise what's going on. The Gems Blonde boys have planned an intoxicating send-off for me. Nothing beats getting tipsy over expensive liquor bought cheap at DFS. And then drinking a bit more on the plane. Pray I dont try and hijack the plane in my drunken state.
So the dream starts. 6 days in Germany, a month in Italy, and 6 days in Thailand. This is it. Pack your bags and go. And who knows if you will ever be given a chance to dream again.
Everyone, please let me know if you wish for anything to be bought from Deutschland, Italia or Bang-kok. I will try my very best. Should I dye it at the airport? Bright Auburn.
