I feel as if it has been a small eternity since my last flight. Let me see. When was it? Oh… From Prague to Houston. I recall vividly the police-type-person in the booth checking passports shaking his head disgustingly at me. I had been a few months over in my stay in the Schengen. He did not stamp my passport at all. After his disgusted head-shake, he just handed it back to me. I wonder what, if any, problems this will cause when I arrive in Madrid in nine-odd hours.
Nine-odd hours
That is, if the flight which just took off thirty-odd minutes late arrives on time. Yah. I have a mere an hour and a quarter to catch my flight at Heathrow to Barajas. And we all know how flighty Heathrow is! Oh yes! The terminals are mere kilometers from each other. I may be stuck in London for a time, after all. Damn them!
The ambient noise is much more noticeable to me than it ever used to be.
I blame that on Boston. I mentioned to Ryan (who was surprised - as if he’d never thought of such a thing) and to Jeremy (who concurred, to an extent) and to Steve (who ignored the comment) my distaste for the noise pollution in the city. Just today, actually, in the morning, walking my usual route, but pulling up short at REI, buzzing, drilling, digging, scraping and wailing blared from machines all around. There was little room for calm. Perhaps the only portion of the walk that was tranquil was the park I crossed at the Longwood T stop.
After requesting a wine or four, I shall watch the film Oblivion. I know little about it. Perhaps it will be entertaining. Perhaps not. I can always program. In fact, I should program.
