Sleep. Yes, I thoroughly appreciate the irony. Believe me when I say that I had every intention of beginning with a bang. Apparently, however, the body has limits.
To the blissfully naïve, Webb has its faults. Widespread sleep deprivation is one. It is a curious aliment, however, for there comes a point when you cease to differentiate between your deprived and natural state. Thoroughly numb and on the verge of collapse, you plunge onward. Then comes the day of insight; then comes the day when your schedule is free, and you can afford such priceless commodities as sleep. You enter bed and fourteen hours later, rise bleary-eyed to a wasted day and appreciate just how worn you were.
Thus, my break began at 15:00 Thursday. It is an exciting thing to realize that one has less than half a day to complete all travel preparations.
The first task? Packing. Picture, if you will, laundry sufficient to cover a dorm room floor several inches deep. Imagine these articles washed, dried, and thrown into the Motley wreck room. A young woman stands before them, eyes squinted, hands on hips. With a sigh, she begins the intimidating chore before her. Hours later, she stands, wearing the same expression, before a black duffle packed to the verge of spontaneous eruption. She decides to risk the extra force and plummets down onto the hazardous container. It takes four hands to zip the bag shut.
Once on the plane, exhaustion struck again. Tell me what you will; I am confident that a most malicious individual first conceived of long distance, economy-class flights. That or some narcoleptic acquainted with contortionism. It is a torture all its own: attempting to sleep while confined to a chair.
Thus, in fitful states of half-sleep, TJ and I arrived in an opaque, fog-enshrouded Munich. It was at this juncture I made a critical discovery: when half asleep and landing in a cloud of white, the mind is capable of some fantastic thoughts. I may or may not have spent several dazed moments conceiving of cloud lands.
At the moment, TJ and I sit in an Athens airport, awaiting a third cadet’s arrival. The rumor is that our trip will bring us directly to ship. Despite the journey’s unintended beginnings, I find myself saturated with a most delightful anticipation.
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