getting there

Here I am. Let's see if I can write a post without falling asleep first. You wanna know how I got here? Okay. First they told me I needed a passport for my cello. Since that sort of identification hasn't been invented yet, I was given no choice but to gate check it to JFK. (Later that delightful option wouldn't even exist.) The airline at JFK spent 1 and 1/2 hours swapping the cello's name (Cello) for something that couldn't be mistaken for a human, thus removing the need for a passport. There went our lunch window. With little or no explanation, the subsequent flight (with my small family of 5 on it) waited on the tarmac for 3 hours before embarking on the 14 and 1/2 hour trip. 3 plus 14.5 is 17.5, by my meager calculations. So I got sick - maybe from so much exposure to the intense dryness of the airplane air, but who knows? Having arrived 3 hours late, we naturally missed our connection.

Now, being sick, everything is a bit hazier from here. But we were apparently lucky that Dunkin' Donuts was still open in the airport, where we used our food vouchers to have a pretty decent array of sandwiches and juices (and doughnuts). One cool thing at Incheon Airport is a hotel that is actually part and parcel of the airport. You can see the expanse of the airport's entrance and atrium out your room's window above, on the second floor. I do recall taking the 2 little ones to a playground later on at night since jetlag was in full swing for them. The next morning we were informed that the cello was once again not entitled to its seat. This is when they would not gate check it. Later on I noticed that the air temperature at 40,000 feet is negative 63 degrees, so a cello may not survive with the baggage anyway. As a result we opted to wait for the afternoon/evening flight, exactly the one we missed the day before. That airline was perfectly willing to have an inanimate object occupy the seat that was bought for it. This nicer airline comped us another 2 hotel rooms to camp out in during the day, and some more food vouchers. We had some okay Pho and Burger King first, but later on deferred to the wonders of DD.

I'm feeling almost normal now, 3 days later. Why is it that when you're sick, you feel like you'll never get well, and when you're well, you think you'll never get sick? It must be some kind of survival mechanism. Perhaps it's a way to get yourself taken care of when you need it, and enjoy yourself when you don't. But honestly I'm not a fan. It f***s me up. I don't like being in that incredibly dark place when I'm sick, and I don't like the temptation to undermine my health when I'm supposed to be simply enjoying the advantages of healthiness. I'll work on revamping the human psyche and get back to you.