Leaving early tomorrow morning and my stomach is all knotty and acidic. I have a hectic day the minute I land in Bangalore. My hope is that I manage to sleep when I am supposed to (I never do) and that I don’t get stuck on any crazy flight delays (I always do.)
I haven’t packed and I cannot find my ipod. I haven’t yet returned my library books (unread) nor my video rental (unwatched.) My laundry remains un-laundered in a pile on my floor. I am alarmed by the size of My Stuff in proportion to the luggage I got. I don’t have a paper ticket (only electronic), which I am assured is okay these days for international flights. I am not entirely assured.
Why must India be so far away? On the exact oolta side of the world. Why couldn’t those ancient platonic plates smoosh my beloved sub-continent onto a different land mass? One that at least shares the sun at the same time as the western hemisphere. Geographical impossibilities aside, nothing makes your heart understand distance as sharply as time.
