It used to be fun. You could carry all your creature comforts with you on the plane. The seats were bigger. The lines were faster. The food was better. Taking a plane feels just one step more luxurious than taking a rural bus these days. There is no dignity left in traveling. Put your stuff in plastic bags. Take off your shoes. Pull out your laptop. Don’t wear an underwire bra. Take your decongestant. Throw out your water. Decide whether your bladder is big enough to choose window seating with two people sitting next to you. Squint to watch a movie you can barely hear.

Thankfully, face-to-face interaction upon reaching one’s destination is so rewarding that it makes up for this hassle and humiliation. Now if we could find a cure for jetlag, I wouldn’t be writing this post at 3am EST when my biological clock is set to PST. And where does all the lost time go? How old are we really when we travel so much? Have I traveled enough to actually be 2 years older? It sure feels like it.

7 more plane rides until mid- June. At least a week’s worth of aging suspended midair.

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