|Departure Area of NAIA Terminal 2|
I've only flown alone once before. For a vacay/work trip to Boracay back in... (egads, how long ago has that been) 2006? Or 7.
I was this newbie in the FMCG industry, handling an up-and-coming brand that was making waves on the sunny shores of Bora and I was going by myself to check-up on sales, look up possible distribution partners and take a breather from the suffocating city life. I was nervous, edgy, kinda clingy to my stuff because I was so sure someone was out to get me. (Of course, there wasn't. Paranoid much?)
So it's been a while since I last traveled alone.
And comparing that trip to this one now... I'd say I'm calmer... more of a donya... (I checked in my tiny blue bag. Hello! If you saw it, you would've gone "Eh ang tamad mo pala eh!")... and more tolerant of strangers.
The near empty departure area of NAIA Terminal 2 is peppered with a few oddballs here and there. As I type, there are two hippie Japanese-y dudes (Okay... not Japanese-y... really Japanese) discussing stuff on their laptop in Nihonggo. There's a thin, oldish white dude with a bald spot checking out the ladies that cross his peripheral vision (I'm not going anywhere near that)... and there are a few fellow Pinoys happily waiting for boarding time to get here. I guess they're looking forward to getting on the plane and getting to Cebu.
And there's me. Ho-hum. Besides all those up top, I feel... tired. I wish I could be excited about all these trips I've been doing but in all honesty, I just want it to stop. Just a nice, short pause in the traveling would be oh-so wonderfully grand. With this third straight working weekend... I think I've forgotten what Saturday feels like.
But... such is life.
Then again, at least I'm not paranoid anymore.