The following blog post was written whilst I was tipsy and sleep deprived. I opted to not edit it as I would like to read back on it in its full authenticity. Enjoy.
'Thoughts From a Flight'
Current Altitude: 37,000 feet
Time to Destination: approx 4 hours to go
Food Eaten: a handful of ‘Jelly Belly’ jelly beans & a questionable Curried Beef with potatoes
Drinks Consumed: 2 Proseccos (when boarding), 2 G&T’s, 1 large glass of Chardonnay & 1 coke
Friends Made on Flight: 0
Turbulence is rife. I am now measuring the severity of it by how much my boobs shake around in this comfortable but not-so-supportive bralette. Should I have worn an appropriate bra today? No I shouldn’t have because underwire was clearly designed by a vile man as punishment to women for having breasts. That man was probably a loud mouthed misogynist but behind closed doors spent a small fortune on buying women’s used underwear instead of his alimony payments.
I am on my way back to London after a fortnight long break in Orlando Florida where I drank many sugary (and potent) cocktails, ate every Mickey Mouse shaped food I could get my grubby mitts on and walked on the beach frequently in the pursuit of pretty shells to give my forever-foraging mother as a gift. It’s been great and although I’m looking forward to seeing my main squeeze (London) and sleeping in my own bed, I am dreading getting back to reality. It won’t be too much of an adjustment though because despite how dreamy this holiday has been, I have still set an alarm every morning thanks for my inherent fear of sleeping my life away. Life just moves so quickly - *insert Ferris Bueller quote here at a later date. Or don’t for fear that you’ll get one word wrong and everyone will assume you’ve never even seen the film and that you’re a giant faker! It simultaneously feels like I’ve been away for 5 minutes and 5 months. I haven’t cooked, washed a dish or done any laundry in over 2 weeks and its been fantastic - I will adopt this same lifestyle as soon as I make it rich or marry a wealthy old man I’m not emotionally attached to but he thinks it’s endearing how much I love buying things so I consider him ‘a keeper’ and beg my family to understand my life choices during our incredibly awkward Christmas mornings together.
When boarding the plane, I couldn’t help but wonder if the pilots sitting 6 feet in front of me ever dread their ‘shift’. This current flight I’m on is roughly 8 hours which is the same duration I muster through 5 days out of the week - difference is, I can leave the office for an hour in the day to go play outside or eat a burrito and if I have an ‘off’ day where I’m not feeling good and get things wrong, no one dies. Probably an inappropriate thought to be having whilst in the midst of some pretty shaky turbulence but it makes me thankful for the differences in repercussions that come with our chosen career paths. Like, I can even drink at my job and STILL not kill anyone as a result. There is a lot of turbulence though so maybe my pilot has been drinking? It’s hard to tell and I’m not allowed in the cockpit despite hinting to the cabin crew multiple times that I’d love a tour of the aircraft. They probably assume it’s the drink talking and they are probably right.
Podcasts are the perfect distraction whilst I am tossed around mercilessly like a bad handjob. I’m now re-listening to series 2 of the infamous (but clearly scripted) powerhouse ‘My Dad Wrote a Porno’ after happily consuming the first 3 episodes of Sarah Jessica Parker’s new TV show ‘Divorce’ - it’s funny, a far cry from the love to hate antics of Carrie Bradshaw and brilliantly written. 5 stars! The turbulence started around an hour ago whilst I had resorted to hiding in the toilets to paint my nails with the new OPI nail polish I bought at Duty Free. I tried to slyly give myself a manicure in my seat but my Dad - who is occupying the seat to my left - upon me opening the nail polish for a mere second shouted loudly ‘THAT SMELLS BLOODY AWFUL!! WERE IN A CONFINED SPACE!!’, Dad isn’t one for hiding his feelings or sparing my dignity but to be honest, after sitting in the tiny toilet cubicle with my nail polish and no ventilation for 5 minutes, I began to think he was right. I will not tell him this but by the way he smirkily asked me ‘was that worth it?’ as I sat back down in my seat, he knew he had won this battle of wits.
Anyway, this tipsy rambling has been great and will no doubt be a riot to read back when I have fully sobered up and haven't been awake for 19 hours straight. I’ll make sure to post a picture on my social networks as soon as I’m back on english soil with the witty and super relevant caption ‘Just touched down in London town’ or something about how cold it is so you know I’m home safe.