Flying East

I always hate flying east. It’s not the destination, but the direction that is a problem. In the past, when I fly east, my body hates it. It was no different this time.

Flight to TO was scheduled for 7am and that meant I should be at the airport around 5:30am. My gracious wife delivered me to the doors of YVR and she gratefully went back home right away to catch up on Zzz.

The anxiety of flying always gets me. Sleepless nights beforehand are common. The early flight was jarring. My allergies have been pretty bad this year. Then add on the 3 hour time difference to Boston. Oh my body hated it.

I was sick the next day. Skipped out on brekkie with my colleagues and felt chills through my arms and back. Oh how I hate the eastward flight.

Scone from home. A homemade snack from wifey that I brought along with me. Made in Vancouver. Eaten in Toronto.



    1. It’s happened almost every time I fly east. The next day, I might as well be a zombie. This time, I was a sick zombie.

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