Image by Dominik Schroder.
I am currently in the Zurich airport searching for internet. Apparently I have to find a voucher station and scan my boarding pass in order to get a code. Do they not understand that all I want to do is sit after sitting for 7 hours. I had the best seat on the plane. I was in the middle of the plane where there are three seats. I had an aisle seat and there was no one in the middle seat, so I literally curled up like a little monkey and slept for 3 hours. That’s all I could get in before they rudely brought around the breakfast loaf. I’m not going to act as though I held my hand up to pass. You know how it is on an airplane. The food is not the greatest. But, when you are flying thousands of feet in the air in a cylinder tube sitting in a seat to which you are confined, you feel as though that little breakfast loaf could be your last meal. I didn’t blink or breathe, and that loaf was gone. It was pure, processed satisfaction with a hint of banana. What happens in the air stays in the air. #AmIRight?
The ride over was uneventful except for the fact that we hit slight turbulence while I was in the restroom. I am terrified of all public bathrooms especially airplane bathrooms. Let’s just say that 10 second turbulence jolt was like a 5 hour nightmare. All was fine, I maintained my balance and didn’t touch a thing. It was also a blessing that I didn’t miss the beverage cart because I wanted to have that one last beer before arriving in India where I will refrain from all liquids unless it is in a tightly, pre-sealed bottle that says “drink me.”
Speaking of last things before the eight day protein bar “fast”, I did have one last green salad in Toronto before hopping on the plane to Zurich. First of all, I had to pay an arm, leg, Kidney, and lung for the kale salad. I thought it was worth it since I technically won’t be able to eat greens for a week and a half. (I act as though I will be gone for a year.) The salad tasted a little funky, and my mind flashed to me getting raveningly ill before stepping foot onto Indian soil. I slightly panicked and fought with the idea of finishing. I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. If I’m going to get sick, then I am going to get sick in India - not in the Toronto airport. It’s like when I broke my knee doing a Paula Abdul workout DVD. If one is going to break their knee, then they should at least break it while playing an Olympic sport. Yes, I make vast comparisons.
I just wanted to give you a rambling update. I’m going to buy my third cup of coffee and attempt to find my gate. Until India, my friends!