Every Sunday night, millions of people will be getting ready to hit the bed, calm down their screaming children, barking dogs. Their spouses will hug them and ask them about the upcoming week. The stars will wheel forth from their daytime hiding places; and one of those lights, slightly brighter than the rest, will be my wingtip passing over.
On my way off to the airport like every Sunday night..
No way can I see myself doing this after mid 30s, though. At least I have a shit ton of frequent flier miles and free hotel nights racked up.
On my way off to the airport like every Sunday night..
No way can I see myself doing this after mid 30s, though. At least I have a shit ton of frequent flier miles and free hotel nights racked up.