back to reality

my last pita gyros at 1030am.

worried a little as i watched my backpack trundle into the check-in xray machine and disappear into the deep dark abyss of idunnowherebutpleasepleaseturnupinchangiairportterminal1

worried somemore when i see the huge pot-bellied person sitting next to me slushing down gulp after gulp of johnnywalker redlabel. straight from the bottle.
and asking for whisky while the stewardess was serving snacks.
and a bottle of red wine during lunch.

reached heathrow in 1 piece

at wh smith,
tried to juggle 3 toblerone bars, 2 boxes of shortbread fingers 1 bottle of ribena, my bag of harrod's goodies and my "fragiles" bag.
just because i was too lazy to pick up a shopping cart.

spent the next 3odd hours sipping my ribena reading my emed book and watching hyperactive kids tear through the airport like they were training for the 100m sprint.

then from heathrow to singapore

got my prized 40D seat
front row, more leg room (no person in front to lean back and squish my knees)
right behind the galley, so i get served first!
AISLE seat (only aishu will understand the torture i went through and the significance of an aisle seat in a caucasian dominated aircraft)

all this from my kiasu singapore genes
yay for checking in online the day before.


i land at arrivals and get my duty-free stuff
sorely tempted to get clinique's happy heart
but the price makes me choke

i exit and i feel it
the heat, the humidity

my pores are drowning.


but im so glad i'm home :)