Finally. It’s been a year since we booked the tickets. This date has been hovering delightfully just out of reach for-bloody-ever. And we’re finally in the BA lounge.
Now, normally, I’m one of the most phlegmatic, relaxed travellers you’ll meet. I prefer cutting it fine to having to wait around airports – and definitely deserve to have missed many more planes than I have. Oh, the fun I’ve had, teasing Vanessa for suggesting we go early to the airport.
Today – no. Bounced out of bed ready to go now. Now!!!! But had a whole, torturous day to go through. No day has ever gone so slowly. Childhood days waiting for Christmas had nothing on it. I kept having that nightmarish feeling of trying desperately to go somewhere but being prevented by absurd things – having to help a mouse cross the road, or needing to do the washing up instead of going to the taxi… yeah, my dreams for the last few nights have been pretty meh.
So we cleaned, and moved things around, bit by bit. (Because we have an airbnb person – a Canadian doctor – in the house for next couple months. I realised I’m a little bit biased in favour of Canadians. Knowing he’s Canadian is somehow reassuring in a way that pretty much any other nationality, is not.)
And cleaned. And moved things around. And cleaned. And fidgeted. And moved things…. Jesus. By three o’clock, I couldn’t hold out any longer and we left – for our 10pm flight.
So, we’re in the lounge. The showers are lovely. The food is lovely. The wine is – well, a bit average, but still lovely. I’m no longer anxiously twitching, which is very lovely. V will stop teasing me for being anxious (just this one time, dammit!), and that will, eventually, be lovely. And we’re boarding in 2h which is – fecking fabulous.