must check flight times...

I had my last exam yesterday morning. In the afternoon I took a long nap, thinking that I would have enough time today to prepare everything for my holiday. After getting home at 4am I slept in and took my time drinking my morning coffee.

After one I finally was ready to go for a run – and the sun had come out as well. I ran for almost two hours, took a shower and collected my laundry into a big, blue Ikea bag and left to the laundrette. While my clothes were swirling in the machine I took my bike to my friend’s house as he had promised to baby-sit my precious when I am on holiday.

I walked back to the laundrette and transferred my wet clothes from the washing machine to the dryer. Knowing that I had two weeks of obligation free holiday in front of me I sat down, listened to music and watched those clothes going up and down and around in the machine – surprisingly relaxing. When I finally got back home it was already almost six o’clock. I turned my computer on to listen to some music. At the same time I decided to check from which terminal my flight was leaving.

SHOCK. HORROR. 20h15. My flight was taking off in TWO hours. This could not be right. I checked again. And for a third time. My flight was taking off in two hours. PANIC.

The whole day I had been convinced that I would have to leave from mine at eight, not be on the plane at eight. Obviously at this stage I had only started thinking about packing. Also, as I have builders coming to redo my bathroom (and some other people are supposed to replace my fridge that broke last week) while I am on holiday I was supposed to move all furniture into the other room. Excellent. Luckily I never ever hide my suitcase.

I poured the clothes from the laundry bag into the suitcase. A mess. Then I realised that the temperature in Finland was going to be -30C° from that of Paris – great. So I pulled few woollen shirts into the suitcase from the shelf. And obviously not the thick ones. As I just realised. I took my hand luggage and threw in two pairs of boots and my running shoes. And a handbag I had used the night before hoping that there would be some make up in it still. Then computer into its bag, both phones, camera, ipod, passport (which is always on the table next to my front door – I wonder why) and wallet. Due to exam stress and too many nights out I had a pile of jewellery on my desk, into the suitcase. Close the suitcase.

It was now 18h20.

Next step was my bathroom that needed to be emptied. I literally threw every bottle, tube and what ever else (why do I have 3different shampoos?) on to the sofa. Done. I realised that the wardrobe in the entry way was too heavy to be moved when full – shoes flew into the other room first and the cupboard followed. Table did not fit threw the door before being folded – shoot. Then chairs. What else. Bathrobe. Rubbish, must take rubbish out.

It was now 18h40.

I couldn’t find my keys. After a 5min of panic I realise they were in my back pocket. Gosh. I ran down six flights of stairs with one suitcase, one hand luggage, one computer bag and that rubbish bag. On to the street. No free taxis in sight. I pulled my luggage and ran towards a bigger road. Stop at ATM. TAXI!!!!!!!

It was now 19h00.

Traffic was jammed. We were stuck. I leaned against the back of my chair and hoped for the best. By 19h17 we were out of Paris. I could just make it. 19h28 “Did we say Terminal 1 miss?” “Yes Sir” “ What time is your flight miss?” “Too soon”. We had arrived. I crabbed my bags and ran. To the check in. Security. And finally at the gate.

I made it.