I flew with my boss to Melbourne for the day on Friday, to talk to the Department of Veterans Affairs about a book and CD-ROM we are doing for them. Steve was supposed to pick me up at 5am, and hadn't shown by 5.30. I was waiting out on the front steps all that time, it was a very mild morning, but I was tying myself in knots worrying about missing the plane. I rang him and it appeared he was in some parallel time zone of his own. We made it, just. When the people at check-in know your name before you open your mouth you are in trouble.
At Hobart Airport when I am boarding the red-eye flight in the dark I always find it strange that when you have toddled out the door onto the tarmac, you are on your own. Your plane might be the one in front of you, or it might be 100 metres up the runway, you have to look at your ticket and the logo on the tail to make sure it's the right airline. And follow the person in front of you. When you have got out of bed at 4am your chances of getting it wrong are pretty considerable. When we did get to the top of the stairs of what was presumably the right plane, there was no-one there, so we ambled in and sat down.
It was a pretty uneventful day actually. I was totally exhausted when we got home, I think from spending most of the day in air-conditioning. I had a tiny little snooze in the meeting but only one person noticed.