So its been a while since I had an airplane blog. I think I spent more uninterrupted time in New York City that I have all year, maybe longer than that. It certainly feels like more time has passed since such an entry.
Also feels like I am typing in slow motion – took a pill for flight anxiety (I am, post-9.11, a passable but not the most comfortable flier), and lets say two things about it. First it works, and I slept the first four hours or so of this flight. Literally feel asleep during takeoff, my moment of typical greatest anxiety I don’t even remember it. Just taxi-ing and next thing, I woke up momentarily over Tennessee. Daddy like.
Second, I have this entirely mellow feeling. I know it will be short lived, I can already feel it wearing off a bit, like the sleepiness did, though maybe I can catch one more nap before I am descending into Burbank.
Modern meds. Use them responsibility and enjoy. The whole travel situation had the capactity to be annoying. I brought a gift from J with me. Didn’t even think about it. Well apparently, it was over the permitted toiletries limit and I couldn’t bring it on the plane, in case I decided to play Richard Reid with my aftershave. I hadn’t planned on it, but they were not buying it. To complicate matters, my ticket had the pre-screening mark on it. That means I was preselected for extra harassment and wanding beyond the more typical screening and Xray that we all enjoy as we head through. When my contraband was discovered though, I was left with the choice of throwing them out (and they weren’t cheap, and were a gift that has some sentimental value to me).
Alternatively, I could head back through security, check the items in a box, which meant that I would have to head back through the whole security check thing again and then, in Burbank, wait for checked luggage – which I never do because I keep clothing and other belongings in Cali so I don’t have anything to carry beyond computers and ipods and cel phones etc.
So as previous texts would indicate, the disconnection process which was supposed to begin with this trip instead was quickly brought into stark relief. Would I endure the hassle to save the gift or would I just dump them in the garbage. I have a feeling that, er, feelings aside, I would have dumped it all to get on the plane. BUT NOOOOO. So I head back through security and do the whole thing (which was not so bad except for now having to wait at Burbank for luggage.
I told J the story while I was waiting for the flight. We’re quite candid with each other about our mental processes (I may be a little more, but I am also a better listener, so I hear more than she’s telling me sometimes, to her occasional chagrin and amazement).
I cannot say how I otherwise feel. I am a little floatie from the drug. Nothing seems to be bothering me too much. I believe, Chillin, would be the right description. And its difficult to get would up about stuff when you’re asleep at 38,000 feet.
Slaughter production office should be open tomorrow I hope. Its kinda far from my apt., but whatever. Not the biggest deal. I’ll be happy to get in the trenches and let the blood start flowing.
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