Romantic notions

I leave for London today. Which can only mean that tomorrow is the flight. To Houston.

That's a bit soon, isn't it?

I don't want to say it's crept up on me, but I haven't been counting down the days, nor kept in a pin in the calendar. I just let it come to me. Which is typical of me, really.

In my mind I did have these - in hindsight, pretty dumb - ideas of what the flight would be like. I even semi-planned a planned a suitable playlist of tunes that would take me into the new world. But then I realised I'll be stuck near a kid or a morbidly obese lady who breathes heavily, sweats profusely and demands extra legroom. Well fuck her, that's no romantic notion.

So, instead I have merely packed as much entertainment as I can cram into a carry-on bag and hope that my DS isn't labelled a security risk.

And through all this I'm not excited. Not nervous. Not scared. I'll miss people and that's what it comes down to. But in their place will come vague imitations of the personalities that keep me sane and happy. And that should be enough. And if it's not then I'll just cram as much junk food in my face.

I'll probably write something tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe on the flight.