I’ve just boarded a plane for a twenty-two-plus hour flight (I think) that will officially arrive in 7 hours. Just think: if I made a career of this kind of thing, I could cut my aging in half, right?
It’s 3pm central time right now. I left home at 5am to catch my 7:22 flight. Then I sprinted through Chicago to switch planes…sprinted through San Francisco to switch planes again. (So I’ve eaten a couple of granola bars since 4am. No wonder I’m hungry. :) ) Wonder when I’m getting in Hong Kong? I know what my ticket says, but I kinda wonder what my body will say. It will be 8am tomorrow central time…about 8pm in Hong Kong. I’m confused. Oh well.
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