Although this is being posted on Monday, I am actually writing it during my transatlantic flight on Sunday. I hope to be snoozing the sleep of the slightly jetlagged at my mom’s house when this does post (thank you Blogger for letting me time-delay my posts), rather than be wide-awake at the buttcrack of dawn when the cat swats at my head. We’ll see. I’ll post photos and a hopefully not-overly-long summary of my trip to Greece later this week as I don’t have the time or patience to try to load photos onto Blogger with a dial-up connection. It’ll have to wait till I can get to someplace with WiFi.
I flew into England from Greece on Friday night. Saturday I spent running errands and trying to organize my very disorganized life. I don’t think my attempts did any good though. Damn it.
Today, I woke up at 5:30 am with less than five hours of sleep to get my long run in before leaving for the airport. Am I a glutton for punishment? You betcha! A 12.5 mile run was scheduled for today. I ended up running 13.5. Lack of time and functioning brain cells prevented me from mapping a different route, so I said to hell with it and did my standard 4.5 mile route around Port Meadow three times.
It turned out to be a good run. I stashed a bottle each of Lucozade and water at the start of the loop and then just picked them up as I cruised on by. I’m pretty sure I was the first one out and about this morning in the meadow. It wasn’t until I was halfway through loop #2 that the fishermen arrived at the canal. A few runners appeared around the same time too.
My four-legged friends also joined me in the meadow this morning. I not only had to dodge the frequent cow patties, I also had to maneuver around the cows themselves. I swear, every time I got close, they would purposely walk right in front of me, forcing me to go around them. Fearing a bovine plot to actually crap directly on me, I nearly sprinted most of the time I was in their presence.
Returning home, I showered, hurriedly packed my now dirty running clothes into my bags and then headed to the bus station, where I had the honor of being driven to Heathrow by a colossal prick. He wasn’t rude directly to me, but was severely so to many other passengers and even to his very polite and courteous co-worker. What a dick.
Waiting for my gate number to appear on the screen, I stopped by Starbucks and got a double espresso. I’m not a coffee drinker AT ALL, but the jolt of caffeine was necessary because of the lack of sleep last night and my need to get a little work done during the flight. And I still had time left to write up this post and watch two films, In Bruges and 27 Dresses. I can heartily recommend In Bruges to anyone who has a sick sense of humor and a love of very dark comedy. It had me laughing so much that the gentleman sitting next to me asked what I was watching. Now he too is giggling at the movie. I guess I’m not the only sicko in the world.
All this traveling lately has me feeling a bit lonely. I was overly nice today and gave up my window seat so that a young couple could sit together. Now I’m on the aisle of the middle section with nothing to lean on.
This is notable because I’m a personal space nazi. I don’t like touching people I don’t know and I really don’t want them touching me. It makes me a bit twitchy to be in a large crowd for too long. To give the guy next to me some more arm room, I’m leaning a bit towards the aisle, but that puts me in danger of being whacked by the drink cart or one of the dozen or so children who have escaped the confines of their seats and are now running hell bent for leather away from their parents. It’s like a circus in here, only, you know, not as fun. But thankfully it lacks the overbearing smell of feces.
I need a travel buddy. Or a boyfriend I can drag along with me to be my headrest. I feel pathetic having written that, but it’s the truth. I actually enjoy my unattached state most of the time, but now not so much. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m getting older. Or that I’m really tired right now. I don’t know. All I do know is that it’d be nice to be one of the couples I see on the plane. Well, at least the ones who aren’t bickering with one another.
On that pathetic note, let me wish you all a non-sucky Monday.
Ci vediamo dopo. (See you later)