For some reason, I’m bizarrely agitated on this return flight. It could be that screaming, crying bundle of joy three seats up from me, or perhaps the flight attendant that keeps stepping on my foot, or maybe I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I’m not really sure. I think, more than anything else, it is the captain voice that keeps interrupting me every ten minutes.
Just as I settle into my zen zone of listening to airline schlock, and sipping very small portions of juice, the captain voice comes on (first in english, and again en francais) to update us to our current flight progress. As I type this, I am 32,000 feet above Penticton. I suppose I should find it interesting, as I have relatives in Penticton – but really it seems just a little bit futile. I can’t see the ant-people from this height, and I certainly can’t expect captain voice to pull the plane over for a minute while I stop in to say ‘Hi’ to Great-Auntie Myrtle.
Ah well.I’m sure that in another 3 minutes, when my tiny breakfast comes to my tiny table, things will perk up. I’ll have food in my belly and I will be even closer to my final destination. I know so because the captain voice just told me so.