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Much the worse for wear from sixteen hours of being fed through the modern-travel meatgrinder.

Oddly, though, the long, long flight was about as pleasant as its ever been. My new friend Ativan gave me permission, for only the second time in my adult life, to fall asleep on an airplane. And four hours of even twitchy, nervous leep cuts a nice chunk out of a twelve-hour flight. Although I did have weird dreams that the nice dark-haired lady next to me, also asleep, was missus c and I woke up puzzled and very thankful I didn't end up semi-consciously cuddling a complete stranger. Early arrest would have put this trip on a very bad footing.

And now United has a much nicer personal-entertainment setup in the seatback, with movies you might actually want to see. I watched the Captain Tom Hanks movie, which was kinda meh but kept my attention, and the second Hobbit movie, which seemed like it would have made a great thirty-minute short piece in the middle of an actual movie, but had been bloated and inflated up to two hours long because $$$$.


Now it's after nine, and everyone here goes to leep at nine, for reasons that escape me other than old and nothing to do. So that means: cigarette run!

Also, I saw my little ol' buddy for years now, Creamsicle the neighborhood cat. She seemed pleased at my offering of tuna, and purred at me as if to say "I knew you'd be back." She's the best.

"Service" on Thursday. Which we're going to make up as we go along. This should prove entirely farcical or may end up with us in military jail. I'll let you know either way.

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