Thirty-six hours. Three flights. Two all-nighters. One ten-hour layover. A mean cold that kicked in a day earlier. 75 tissues. A whole row of pills. Half a pack of cough drops. Too many in-flight meals. No sleep.
I feel like I’ve walked through one of the deeper circles of hell. This isn’t even mentioning the crying baby one row over. An old aunt and uncle playing dog videos on their iPhone with the volume cranked up. A tall man in the seat next to me whose elbow keeps jabbing me in the ribs.
All this to get back to Montreal.
Small miracle that things at the airport were actually pretty smooth. Took under an hour to land, ferry, pass customs, collect my bags (one of them was literally the last to appear on the belt) and catch an Uber home.
I fell asleep easily three seconds after hitting the pillows and slept like a rock until four in the morning.
Hasn’t been such a bad day since.
Went to the bakery the minute it opened. I wasn’t the first one there. Did the same for the fruiterie and the post office. Both places were packed. Fridays in Outremont, I guess.
Been slowly unpacking. Both checked suitcases were sitting at around 22 kg each. Definitely the heaviest luggage I’ve ever brought home.
Thank all the gifts I crammed in there. A dozen scarfs. Hell of a lot of clothing. A whole crockery set. And the soup. So much sweet corn soup. Tasting that in the morning from boiled tap water was heaven. As were the plain scrambled eggs, fried spinach and bread I had for brunch.
Nothing deep fried today. No thanks.
Still working on the jet lag. If I make it past two PM without passing out, I’ll feel like some kind of God.