I am your seat neighbor on the plane, the one who won’t talk to you for the whole eight hours flight, since I am too busy sleeping. Don’t you doubt, I did the same on the last flight, and I will do the same on my next one. I sometimes read a bit, in a language you don’t usually know (no use in being nosy here), but just because they’re about to serve us dinner, or lunch, or get us to disembark the hell out of here. Today I broke my record: fell asleep before taking off, woke up after landing, with some quick parenthesis (food, feeling cold, feeling hot, being asked to close the window, to open it, close it again).

Shamelessly, I now look forward to my flight time, to recoup the lost sleep, and I don’t mind the usual rush of work and projects just before my departure anymore, since I know I’m going to have 20 hours all by myself (I’ll just ignore you, remember?) to sleep my face out of my skull.

When I first started being a serious traveller (thanks to www.esperideviaggi.it, who helped me become the woman I am now) I had a lot of plans for my many hours on a plane (I started being a traveler when I decided I was going to the other side of the world, none less), thinking and reading and working and writing… I can’t remember when I started purging all of those tasks, one by one, from my list, until now.
To be honest, I do feel my eyes burning a bit, as if they were about to fall off my face, and can’t really say I’d be 100% productive if asked to perform a complex task, but, still, it’s now dinner time, I’ve landed at 6 am, I’ve almost made it, I’m not jet-lagged anymore. I’m in Africa…

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