I'm about 30,000 feet in the air right now. Sort of dehydrated because this water is quenching my burning throat. One little cup isn't going to cut it.
And the injustice of it all; open seats in first class. Wonder if I had asked earlier, I could have been bumped up. (I did get a nifty little free blanket).
I think the thing about flying is that I am completely out of control. Every time the engine gets louder or softer, or we bank left or right, or gain or lose a bit of altitude, I immediately come to attention, as if there really is something going wrong and I'm the first to notice, as if I could actually do something about it.
I could totally go for some more water. The gentlemen in front of me didn't get their drinks so maybe the stewardesses will take pity on a parched soul. I'm rationing the water now, each sip is half the size of the last (theoretically, at this rate, I'll never run out).
She had mercy, another cup of water is on it's way.
My throat now has an abundance of this wonderfully cooling liquid.
