I write this from the air over Tasmania. I’m on a flight to Sydney, then from there to LA. I can hardly believe it myself.
It’s about 15 hours since I finished my last day of work at the university. My final PhD student handed in his thesis. I handed in my keys. I am actually done, and moving on to my new life.
Starting with, a brief interlude in LA.
I am going to visit my sister, meet as many of her friends as possible, see the places she hangs out, and then she’ll be coming back with me to Tassie so that she can visit all of us. We haven’t hung out together for three years. It’s going to be a really wonderful time.
The plan is to give you all a little blog update every day of my LA visit. I don’t know whether it’s going to work but I think it will be fun if it does. Notice the lack of commitment in that sentence. I’m not up to committing to a challenge right now. I’ve been awake since 3am. I’m not thinking clearly. But I’m hopeful.
The coast of Tasmania is disappearing below the wing of the aircraft. I’m in a window seat with a row of seats all to myself. I would love it if that happened for the long haul flight too but I reckon that will be too much to ask.
My poor little brain is going overtime trying to process the changes that are happening right now. I had a really big, ‘What on earth am I doing? Am I totally crazy?’ moment as I handed in my keys yesterday and left work for the final time. But when I got home I opened a bottle of bubbly and had a quiet moment of celebration with Moz. And this morning, I’m just trying to process the fact that I’m flying to America. Maybe I’ll catch up with myself in a few weeks. We shall see.
The sun has just popped over the horizon. I’m about to be served a coffee. I’m going to keep this short and sign off, and maybe give you a few more thoughts from the other plane before I put this online.
Now I’m in the air over the ocean. You know, it’s really amazing that we can fly in these metaltubes. I was reminded of this as we drove in the bus from the domestic to the international terminal in Sydney. In front of me was a little boy, about two years old I reckon. He was so excited.
He’d give a big gasp and say ‘plane!’ and then another gasp and then ‘plane!’ and as we got to the international terminal and the planes were bigger and closer he couldn’t even get the word out. It was just gasp after gasp. I was hoping he wouldn’t hyperventilate. It was the cutest, and absolutely hilarious. (Though one of my friends who works in baggage handling is pretty much the same when it comes to planes I think. He loves his job. Which is wonderful.)
I love to fly. It’s fun. I like the food, the choice of movies, the little hot towelettes you get to refresh yourself, the blankets and the pillows.
I don’t like not being able to lie down to sleep, the fact that I’m sitting right in front of the toilets, and the constant noise. But you know, soon I’m going to be so tired that none of that will matter. I hope.
Catch you on the other side of the Pacific Ocean.