It's closer to midnight than the morning sunrise when my alarm clock goes off. It's nauseating just to open my eyes. Everything moves in slow motion like a fog has moved into my brain clouding my thoughts and motions. It's a fight just to figure out how to untie my sweatpants. The impending adventure is what keeps me moving. The fact that in eight hours I will be closer to where I belong. Near a large body of water with an high temperature of 90 degrees. Blows my mind. At this point in the dead of winter in the frozen tundra, I can't even imagine what 90 degrees feels like. Do you even need clothes in 90 degrees?
As the drive to the airport rolled by with only minimal obligatory skunk smells, and the check in process at the airport is completed I'm closer to the sunrise than midnight, but it is still pitch dark outside. The antiseptic hospital like smell of the airport clears the fog and leaves me to my thoughts. I have brought with me things from past adventures that make me a little nostalgic. I have packed my black sandals that have been nearly worn through by the portugal pavement and sand of Cascais. I packed the same shirt that I got off of a plane in Malaga wearing 10 months ago. My heart and body know what is coming. I'm like a child on christmas, one who can't contain the anticipation and excitement, even if it is five in the morning.
Oh adventure, how I have missed you.