Note: All of these posts will be a bit delayed….usually written as notes in the moment, and posted with a week or two of lagtime.
It’s 2:22 AM. I’m nice and full from my second dinner, compliments of Lufthansa. Mom made me an incredible send-off meal of salmon in a light soy ginger marinade with broccoli, baby bok choy with more ginger – just the way I like it- and crispy, sliced roast potatoes, polished off with Italian plum pie. I’ll never understand those people who skip meals because they’re “busy” or “stressed” or “so anxious I just forgot to eat.” After a week of errand running and excessive clothing pile editing, I left for Logan airport in a complete frenzy, having chosen to savor my last Mom-made feast over taking care of small details like packing that sturdy hairbrush I love so much and the Xanax I could really use right now.
I washed down Dinner Two with a few glasses of sparkling water – I’ll never turn down a glass of free bubbles – a few glasses of white wine and a decaf coffee, an ideal pre-slumber lineup. Yet here I am, a glowing laptop in a sea of paper-pillow sleepers. It’s like a flashback to those childhood car trips when my sister would be out cold from the moment the engine purred, mouth ajar and lips slightly curved in pure REM delight. I’d glare at her loud breath with envy, fidget, close my eyes and try to unfurrow my brow. In five minutes, I’d give up and begin to watch the water drip down my window, little slow drops turning into big fast drops, or peer briefly into houses, wondering who lived there and what would my life be like if I lived there. Would I be happy? Content? Asleep?
Now that I’ve come to terms with my sleeplessness, it’s time to learn Italian. I bought the President’s Choice version of Rosetta Stone, and according to my dad’s rose-tinted calculations, should be fluent by the time I land in Milan if I start listening now. I’ve got 48 minutes left on my laptop. Buona notte.