Back in Black

Sandwiched between Grey at the window and Ja on the aisle, I decided to start using my miles to upgrade the group to First Class the next time we fly. Tired of not getting an arm rest and being the tray table for their drinks, computers, iPads and whatever layer of clothing each decided to remove at any given time during the flight, I let out a loud sigh.  Squeezing my butt cheeks to get some blood flowing and shifting in my seat, I checked my watch. We had a little less than an hour left on the flight until we were back in St. Maarten. 

Mental checklist: do not use Xanax for annoyance, only for anxiety. And never mix with alcohol.  Call doctor and ask if/when these cross over.

To keep my sanity and continue my good mood from our April break, I decided to read through my “Glinda List”.  Last night at the prompting of Taffi (after we’d polished off 3 bottles of chardonnay and 2 classic Krispy Kreme doughnuts, each), I’d made a list of good versus bad things about moving to the island.  Digging the crumpled Krispy Kreme bag from my backpack, I unfolded it and began reading the notes written in purple highlighter.

GOOD WITCH                            BAD     SUPER SUCKY

sunshine                                        hurricanes (Irene, anyone??)

beach                                          sweeping sand, sand in clothes

 sand EVERYWHERE

scuba                                           had to short sale the house (MFB)

rum                                            miss holidays, birthdays, everything

goats on the side of the road                  no hockey

Yoda Guy                                      never see husband

                                                med school is hard/stressful for Ja

                                                worry about Ja’s health

                                                weight gain

                                                centipedes aka dangerous beasts

Really? I wrote down that goats were a good thing?  The Star Wars marathon I suffered through with the guys must have prompted my “Yoda Guy” reference. Even if Darth Vader was on the island, it was still too remote.  Case and point my intake of chardonnay had to change – starting tomorrow.   I shoved the scribbles in my backpack, downed my 4 ounces of chardonnay and climbed over Ja plastic cup in hand to make my way to the lavatory. 

Leaning forward in the aisle to look out the window at darkness, the captain announced we’d begun our descent to St. Maarten.  The announcement startled the guy in the seat I was leaning over causing him to jerk, fling his arm and throw coffee all over my shorts.  Strange. I didn’t remember puking in Karma’s Cheerios this morning.

So this was my welcome back to St. Maarten for Jameson’s 3^rd semester? Seriously?!? Only two months until I was back in the States to take Grey back for a summer of fun. I can do it. But, can I do it without chardonnay…