If I have to read another ‘3 Perfect Days’ feature in Hemispheres magazine, I’m going to pull the handle of my exit row door at 30,000 ft. I’ve actually started to look over the safety pamphlet with a very critical, professionally trained designery type eye, just to look for any continuity errors, like an FAA approved version of ’spot the difference’. I look from one frame to the next to see if perhaps that person’s shirt went from grey to taupe. Or if that person went from being right handed to suddenly left handed! Well, pardon the spoiler but nothing remotely interesting happens in the saftey manual. The only thing of note is just how poor the drawings themselves are. They’re rubbish. And what’s with the little fella with growth hormone deficiency? He’s meant to look like a small boy whos mother is kindly attaching an oxygen mask, but instead he’s just looks like a malproportioned demi-midget with frequent flier status.
But the worst part of it is this: no matter how distracted you can make yourself, no matter how many portable electronics you can bring with you, eventually you end up having to do some self reflection.
And at this point, I’ve had it up to here with me.
I’m done looking into myself.
I’m done with having ‘a little me time’.
I want to stop ‘taking a good hard look at myself’.
I’m dead to me.
