The air is stiff and recycled, breathing in germs of groggy, un-showered, under-caffeinated passengers. The flight attendants like their jobs a little more than I prefer them too. They are too perky and alert this early in the morning.
The seating wasn’t assigned and we boarded too late to sit by each other but it was painless and I want to get home too much to care. The family sitting in row ten with me are disgustingly adorable and I’m glad they were able to get their baby to shut up so I could do some reading. He’s doing homework too. How he’s able to balance school at St. Thomas (Yes, I’m nosey) a wife and a new born stresses me out just thinking about it.
The blue seats exactly match the thin carpeting and the man behind me, even though he is in the exit aisle, has legs that are too long for his body causing his knees to dig into the small of my back. The girl across the aisle from me had a rough St. Patrick’s day. Well it was probably pretty awesome but from the looks of her smeared mascara and half rubbed off shamrock tattoo (not to mention breath that smells like a vodka factory) she’s probably hating life pretty bad right now. She’s like a train wreck. You don’t want to stare but you can’t really help it.
Now the tall man is stretching his legs so far under my seat that he kicked me. Awesome.
Since when do they serve peanuts on airplanes, I thought that wasn’t allowed anymore due to allergies? Well if that was the case, I probably wouldn’t even been allowed on the plane. I have enough of my sister’s dog hair on me to make a whole new Chihuahua. I can’t wait to go at my fleece with a lint roller when I get home.
It’ crazy thinking about where all these people came from, who they are and where they’re going. And even though I’ll never know any of them we breathed in the same disgusting air for 3 hours too long and my back got really personal with they guy in aisle 11. I’m just glad to be going home.