Fear of Flying

We got home safe and sound last night and I had to go back to blogging asap. I really did not want to leave Ireland and all my friends but fair enough it was also good to set foot into our house and it felt good to be back. This morning - not so much obviously. I had a hard time getting out of bed. It was dark, it was cold, I had no idea what was going to await me in work and the one hour time difference took its toll. Ok it is not as if I was jet lagged but since Germany is one hour ahead of Ireland and we stayed up very late the week before it felt as if I got up at 4 am this morning.

As expected I was also feeling a bit under the weather and I feel as though I got a cold coming on. This is why I fear flying now. Oh how I used to love flying but after working for an airline and flying as if there was no tomorrow I am really fed up with it. Not only because it takes ages to get somewhere and I don’t even speak of the time you have to now spend at the airport. I seem to always catch a cold nowadays. Stupid aircondition. To think that I once wanted to become a flight attendant…I would have taken to the bed more often than the sort of women doing their job, well in bed.

Anyway it was supposed to be a short trip and we were kindly invited to stay with our friends. We had a great time. Though we did not want to spend a lot of money we ended up shopping like there was no tomorrow. We came to Dublin with one bag and left with two and a major dent on our credit card. Our bank manager will not be pleased but to hell with him it was well worth it.

We did take some pictures after all and if I can find the cable to our digicam I will post some. The new haircut was ruined in Ireland as well. Living there I knew that it was moist and I with my naturally curly hair should have known better. This time I really noticed just how damp it really is in Ireland. The covers on the bed seemed to be clammy and our towels never seemed to dry properly, my hair looked as if I was making the effort to have it permed every single night. My husband would look at me in the morning before laughing his a$$ off claiming that the curl-dwarfs went to work on my head trying to turn me into Curly Sue.