So I’m in JFK International airport in New York. I’m drinking Starbucks coffee and lamenting the fact that I don’t have internet access. I’ve just got off a five hour flight from San Francisco. It was long and arduous. I slept on and off and felt sick with the remnants of last night’s wine still in my system. But I’m half way home! My next flight is at nine o’clock, I think. That’s three hours from now. Oh dear. And my laptop’s almost dead. Oh dear, oh dear. Hopefully this next flight will offer me some movies free of charge. (The last flight didn’t: it just let me watch the same one or two episodes of The Big Bang Theory that I watched on my flight over here almost three months ago. Which is tragic. Here’s hoping for free movies and something to distract me from thinking about the likelihood of the plane plummeting into the Atlantic Ocean.) When I get to Dublin, I have a two and a half hour train journey to look forward to and then, finally, seeing my lovely family and my lovely bed.
Sleep will be nice. I didn’t sleep last night. My sister-in-law packed my bags for me and then we headed off into the night to see the Golden Gate bridge. At 4am. Insane. Lovely. Driving with the windows down and listening to Death Cab For Cutie and Decemberists. In our pyjamas. What a wonderful last hurrah in Yankland! Now to home I go, back to the reality of college exams and financial instability and friends and alcohol. I have missed my Irish life.
I have located my gate (number twenty-one!) and I’ve found a place to plug in my laptop. Sadly, still no internet access (internet access should be a right, not a privilege or a commodity or whatever you want to call it). Right now, I’m oscillating between wanting to blog, listening to the Decemberists, considering writing that fashion article for An Focal (UL’s fortnightly and award-winning college newspaper) and avoiding studying for my exam. Naturally, blogging wins. I’m finding it hard to write the article sitting here, tired and cranky. Not just because I am not connected to the World Wide Web, but also because I am very unfashionable right now: scruffy and smelly and hanging around JFK with two pairs of glasses on my head. (I didn’t want either pair to get crushed so I’m sacrificing normality for their protection. But then, what is normality?)
I am so very, very tired. How long does it take to fly from New York to Dublin? I haven’t a clue. I’m hoping it’ll only be about twenty minutes though. I can’t take much more of this. I don’t believe in jet-lag but it will be a miracle if I can keep my eyes open during that exam on Wednesday. Bad enough that I don’t even know what kinds of questions I’m expected to answer, but I shall also be delirious from lack of sleep and the awkward sensation of having been in three different time zones in one day.
Also, is it just me or does a the job of a flight attendant seem like a very strange one? You go into work for the night and you end up on the other side of the world. And you don’t even get to see the world – just a lot of airports. Very strange.
(Psst! Expect a post in the next few days about Yankland as a whole, the ups, the downs and the downright bizarres.)
[Obviously this was posted as soon as I had an internet connection – half four on Tuesday evening, home in my own home.]