Flying
I hate it.
Friends,
I’m in Spain for a month, first stop Barcelona. I’ll be teaching creative writing to my grad students, whom I love, and I can’t wait. But the trip was a nightmare, everything delayed, 19 hours door to door. I hate flying, not because I’m afraid of crashing, but because my neck and back hurt, and sitting that close to anyone I’m not sleeping with repulses me. I hate listening to strangers cough or snore, especially when I hear a touch of wetness. I can’t stand the families that talk across aisles, passing iPads and snacks back and forth. Sometimes there’s a team traveling to a tournament, and though they’re scattered throughout the cabin, they call out to one another. I don’t mind the crying babies. Everyone gets mad about crying babies, but babies don’t know better. It’s the non-babies who deserve our wrath. Fuck the flying non-babies.
