I am at the airport in Atlanta, waiting to board the flight that will take me back to Rome. Every year is the same. Gloominess and happiness blending together in a “stomach-blues” that makes me almost sick (unless is the overprized tuna sandwich that is making me sick). Happiness, of course, cause I am going to see family and friends. Gloominess cause every year becomes stronger this feeling of parting from what my life used to be only 3 or 4 years back.
Despite my overall excitement for my travel, I am really not looking forward to the 9:32 hours of flight that. The one thing that usually turns out to be a big downer is the fact that no matter the number of good looking women sitting at the gate waiting to take the exact same flight, I can already foresee that I will be seating in a very uncomfortable seat. The worst-case scenario? Well, the worst case is “mom with toddler” on one side (there are at least three of them now), and “middle age man who wants to talk” on the other side. Considering how lucky I usually am when it comes with this kind of things I am pretty damn sure that this is going to be the set up for the my flight. Anyway, I am really happy about going home for these winter holidays, and even if I win the toddler and the middle age man it is a small price to pay for my time in Rome.