My time at home between trips was short but I tried to make the most of it. To paraphrase Julius Ceaser: vinkie, vatchie, vashie (I slept, I watched some DVRed TV shows, I did laundry). Tomorrow it's back to the flying rat race when I will resume my ignominious acquaintance with the seat next to the lavatory.
And that is the worst of all. Non-elite! Non-elite! Every flight I'm on - and this month I'm logging 10,337 miles before it's over - has me smack against the lavatory. Which is worse? The seat in front of the lavatory or the seat across from the lavatory? I fly to Dallas in front of the lavatory and I fly from Dallas to Los Angeles next to the lavatory.
What is that adage about bearing the current hardship in order to make you stronger for the next one? My experience as a young student nurse, commuting every weekend between Wilkes-Barre PA and Hackensack NJ for three years, prepared me for sharing close quarters with a traveling restroom for hour upon gagging hour. Thanks, Universe.
So I'll say hello to seat 24D for you all. I pray for a merciful and quick sleep when the plane takes off so that I can dream about the glorious day when Continental will once again call me by my real name - Suzette Elite.