Dear diary,
The beginning was nice like a calm before the storm. But, of course, the middle was the worst, and the end gave just enough solace to make me question my sanity.
Me and Janet were at the airport, casually saying hi to our professor. And oh boy, let me tell you about this professor she’s probably missing a screw or two. She messaged us on the WhatsApp group to wait for HER. So, there we were, inching through passport control, every single step a pause because we had to wait for her! I mean, we’re not even out of the country yet.
Anyway, I sat next to this sweet British lady while Janet and our other colleague—let’s call her Margot (I’ll need a whole entry to explain why she’s a pain) went to the toilet. The British lady turns to me and goes, “Is there Wi-Fi here? Could you check?” and hands me her phone like I’m tech support. Then she admits, “I’m really rubbish with technology.” Bless her heart.
Traveling alone and clueless about Wi-Fi honestly, I felt a little bad. I told her my home country’s airport doesn’t have Wi-Fi (welcome to the 90s), but I could share my hotspot. She acted like I just offered her a lifeline in the middle of the desert. I switched on my hotspot, connected her phone, and she thanked me like I’d just saved her life.
I mean, it’s no big deal. If I ever needed a Wi-Fi hotspot, I’d want someone to do the same for me. Do good, and good will come back, right?
Then came the plane.Oh, the plane. I just wanted to disappear, preferably into a black hole. Janet wasn’t feeling well, so she asked me to switch seats. I moved to the middle seat, she took the aisle, and some guy sat by the window. No big deal, aisle or middle seat what’s the difference?
WRONG.
this guy turned into a human octopus, stretching arms and legs like he was training for Cirque du Soleil. Every fifteen minutes, his hand landed on my side, and his foot stomped on mine.
I’m convinced he was doing it on purpose. Told Janet, and she confirmed—he pulled the same stunt on her. For a second, she thought she was losing it. Nope.
And no, Janet wasn’t trying to get rid of me because he was a creep she legitimately vomited. Classic Janet.
Then we tried to get the guy to move seats so Margot could sit with us. He agreed. Or so he said. The moment Margot arrived, Mr. Stretchy transformed into Mr. Mute, pretending not to understand English.
Really? How do you fly to the UK without English? Magic?
The worst? I spent the whole flight invaded by octopus limbs. Wanted to say, “Dude, cool it with the gymnastics,” but I froze. My brain went Error 101: No Response.
Losing your seat on a flight is bad enough.
Losing your peace? That’s a whole different disaster. Between a professor who treated the airport like her personal stage, a human octopus determined to invade my space, and a friend sprinting to the toilet like she was escaping a crime scene, my patience checked out long before my seat did.
— Currently rethinking all my life choices (including this trip),