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Wednesday, July 31, 2013

one wedding and a family reunion (with a side of legoland and a whole mess of birthdays)

Sixteen hours.

That's how long it will take me to get back home.  To get back to Target.  To get back to my friends and family and the 405.

For sixteen hours I will be on a plane.  Up in the sky.  I will watch a lot a lot of movies.  Random TV shows.  Eat some airplane food.  Think about Deep Vein Thrombosis maybe once or twice.  Do some ankle/leg exercises immediately after.  Drink a lot of water.  Go to the lavatory too many times to count, or maybe less, but probably more.  I will break up some kid fights.  Smile at my husband.  Make nice nice with the flight attendants because I was once a waitress and I know.  I will sit in only one seat with not enough leg room and wish I had more.  And then wish I was in my pajamas.  And then wish I was horizontal like those horizontal people somewhere way in front of me.  And then I will stop wishing because those wishes aren't coming true.  Not on this flight.  And so I'll start piecing together all the little unfolding stories around me.  Him and her and how are those pants comfortable?!  And then I will get bored and notice my family is asleep.  So I will moisturize everything.  And find my glasses.  And take out my contacts. And adjust my multiple blankets -- because of the nice nice earlier, I will have at least two.  And this is when I will pull it out.  One half of my tiny over-the-counter sleeping pill and it will be in my mouth and down my throat and absorbed into my bloodstream as I pray beg hope for sleep. And, in this version of that story, I will sleep.

And just like that, I will be back home.  And at Target.  And with my friends and family and the 405.

And that is what I will be doing for sixteen hours in August.

In comfortable pants.