queuing

ENTRY # 1383 Two hours early for the flight shuffling along in slow mo. Glad Im here. Glad to be able to amuse myself with one finger typing, balancing the laptop on my luggage with the other hand keeping a steadying grip on my virtual life. Geek. Although Id like to think I look more like a rock star. (Not really). Monkeys in ones head isnt just something endemic to my small circle of girlfriends at home. I met monkeys from other countries on this trip. By god! theyre even the same species. There is the I-cant-believe-I-said-that howler monkey. There is the lurking-wallflower marmoset. There is the self-doubtful chimpanzee. The women admitted to theirs. Dont know if guys have them, or just dont admit them. I remember how I used to screw up my courage to speak up at a faculty meeting and my hands would be trembling underneath the table from the adrenaline. Its not so bad now. Used to be that way with the first day of classes too. Now its just general performance anxiety. In the jungle, the quiet jungle, the monkeys sleep tonight. Excuse me while I admire a stunning woman and outfit combination. There.

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Through check in. Through security. Did my best to spend my last 10 pounds and succeeded in buying a quiche and latte. Still have some notes and coins. Ill pass them on to the next colleague going to the UK. Saw some little kids. Remembered my own. I miss them very much. Killing time. Talking at you. But this costs me nothing in energy, this asynchronous dialog with only occassional exchange, this spotlit journal set mostly in passive broadcast mode. Boarding begins. Im coming home. Tona has pie., xhtml, , xhtml);

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