high flyin

What do you do on a 13 hour overnight plane flight when you can't sleep. Using the  reading light seems rude.  All around me are people trying to snooze.   Uh oh....hot flash just hit!  Hindsight insight....long-sleeved sweater, pants and calf boots were not a smart choice!  Not with economy class seats.   Earlier,  I had closed off the overhead AC after repeated coughing by several nearby passengers had filled the air in our cabin.  No recycled germs blowing in my face, thank you! The hot flash remained in full swing. My set has me trapped. There is barely room to wiggle, much less to lean forward in order to see or get to my toes.   Thankfully, I'd pushed the boots off using my feet with an earlier hot flash leaving me with just my fleece socks. Green with white polka dots.  My free spirit side loved them...even though they didn't match my comfortably classy, yet warm, black and white ensemble. They'd been hidden snugly inside my boots until liberated by the first hot flash assault.  And I didn't mind my polka dot toes peeking out when I took to the aisle to find the restroom.  But now, they were the next to go in my strip poker dance between high-altitude cabin temperatures and estrogen loss!  In the two weeks since we arrived in Japan, no laundering had been done.  My long johns and other underthings were becoming pretty ragged. So this morning, I wadded up sports bra and long johns and crammed them into my already overstuffed suitcase. I decided I would embrace the 1960's as I dressed to meet the  airport shuttle. So, as I feverishly sought a solution to ease this feeling of being placed inside an oven, I recognized quickly that my sweater was on to stay. Pants too.  My solution was twofold. Roll up the pants and get out of the socks. Ahhhhh!  Using my toes on the opposite foot, I managed to pull off one sock. Then the next. I sighed, smiled and slumped back into the two inches of wiggle room seat 24B afforded me.   Not even 60 seconds later do I think.... Hmmm. Now it's getting chilly. Bummer!  Getting my socks back on my feet would entail bending forward to reach my toes. That isn't going to happen. it's hard enough to do that when I'm not crammed into american airline's version of economical torture,  Okay then, what should I do?  I quickly take stock of my options. My pant legs are still to my ankles and the airlines blanket on my lap can't reach my chilled toes.  But I have my boots! Their sweater- lined tops and room openings should make it a breeze to slide sock-less feet inside!  But how do I get to my boots!  Reclining back and stretching out my 5'8 frame had pushed my discarded boots veeeerrrry far under the seat ahead of mine.  Stretching out and then maneuvering down, I slid my feet under as far as I could hoping I'm not crating bumps and jostles to the man asleep in the seat.   Using my feet In nail clippers-fashion, I work to capture the elusive tops of each boot.  More difficult than I thought it'd be! Several vain attempts ensued but finally, I managed to drag both boots to where I wanted them! Sliding ny toes in was easy. It was navigating the curve at the ankle that was the hard part. 

    Silently I bemoan my selfish streak. The chair ahead of mine is reclined all the way back. Which effectively prevents any bending at the hips on my part. My toes are warm but my ankles firmly wish to join in.  

       So sad!  The biblical adage, " You reap what you sow" plopped itself firmly before me.  Sighing, I fought back the urge to let irritation erupt.  My seat is also in the fully reclined position.  I had quite happily placed it so.  Right after the guy in front of me had reclined his seat ....effectively cutting my airspace in half. I did give a brief thought to how my actions were going to affect the person behind my seat....albeit ...super briefly!   There was no "Do unto others..." in my heart.  So I couldn't be mad at the guy ahead of me for adding to the the strait jacket feel  of economy class seating.  The opening to the second boot kept escaping my searching toes. Ah ha! Got it!  Now...toes were warm and covered by 2 inches of sweater topped boot.  Ankles still cold.  Cannot bend forward.  Seat belt light is on.  Hmmmmm.  Slowly I snake my boot -ensconced toes toward the aisle.  A few more inches toward my right outstretched arm and...wallah!  I pulled the right boot on.  The left foot required a release of the seat belt but that didn't bother my scoff-law side.  Not when warmth and comfort were only inches away and no harm, no foul was an obvious cohort to my airline recklessness. 

          Feeling a sense of accomplishment, I think on what to do now?  What time is it? I can't get the English to come on the flight path screen but theJapanese writing seems to say there's another 3 hours left for this flight.   The red animated plane hovers near San Francisco. We're  headed to Fort Worth, TX to make our connection to Savannah from there.  

                 Deciding the best thing is to try to catch more shut eye before we land and before another hot flash hits,  I pull my eyeshield down over my eyes and smile as I lean back into a fully reclined ;) position. If I see seat-behind-me- guy trying to get his shoes on though...I am so un-reclining my seat!