There was no doubt in my mind that I was already on Italian soil even before we exited the plane. As usual some over eager Italian thought it best to trample past me in order to get off the plane a nanosecond before everyone else. Where does this mentality come from anyways? Is it so overcrowded here that the only way you will get anything is if you butt ahead of everyone else?
I wish I could say that I am happy to be back but the truth is that if it wasn’t for my cat Stelle I probably would have extended my time on the ship with my husband. Tired and cranky, (I’d make a great dwarf for Snow white), I dragged my bags across 3 airport terminals to the Air Italia kiosk. Putting on my best game face I went to task to change my flight. I mean who really wants to have my miserable ass hanging out at their airport all day anyways?
My wallet was now 80 euros lighter but I managed to get an earlier flight and let’s just say that after travelling for so many hours you cannot put a price tag on wanting to sleep in your own bed. Next stop was checking my mammoth suitcase and the clerk actually had the gall to harass me about being 2 kilo’s overweight. I realized at that point I had two choices…A). Go ballistic and start to yell or B). Act like an Italian and charm the clerk into realizing that two kilo’s was insignificant and that I just forked over a pile of money to get on the earlier flight.
Plan B was effective but not before she also harangued me about my carry-on being 1 kilo overweight! Don’t push it lady, I’m sleep deprived and 3 seconds short of going postal on your sorry ass. For the record when I got on board I saw full-sized sized suitcases being brought on by 80% of the passengers.
Home sweet home…It’s 1 in the morning and I’m wide awake after a comatose slumber of 8 hours. Stelle is fine, although a bit on the skinny side and she seems to have bypassed snubbing me for being gone for a month and skipped right into full cuddle mode. All in all, it’s good to be home : )