Thailand, I bid adieu

I had a really hectic last few days in Thailand. I was scrambling around trying to make doctor’s visits, buy gifts, and meet up with friends, all while eating everything in sight.

My friends threw me a going away party on my last night. We had drinks and hors d'oeuvres by the pool and then went out to the bars after wards.


I had a great time but every so often I would look around and get hit with a wave of sadness. How could I leave all of this?






After drinking beer, wine, whiskey, and gin all night, I woke up extremely ill the next morning. I had to wake up early to pick up my suitcase from my auntie’s house. All the food I ate the night before came up the moment I reached her door. 4 times. I lugged my stuff back to D’s only to find that the gate was locked and I had no phone because I returned the borrowed sim card to my auntie. I sat outside on D’s porch for an hour, sitting in the sun, feeling like death. As soon as I got into the house I crawled back into bed. I developed a high fever and was sweating and shivering. I still had errands to run, gifts to buy, but I couldn’t get out of bed. I was supposed to meet D’s mom for a farewell sushi dinner but couldn’t stomach the idea of raw fish mixed with last night’s remnants. I had things scattered all around the room and had no idea how I was going to fit them into 2 suitcases, weighing under 23 kg each. From the look on D’s face, he had no idea how I was going to do it either.

I made it to the airport, an hour before my flight, only to find out what I had feared. My two bags and my carry-on was 5 kg over in total. I vow to pack lighter next time I travel.

Seven hours later I arrived at Qatar, exhausted and still nauseous. I had a 9 hour layover. I debated getting a hotel room but knew I didn’t have enough money. I slept on my 90 ton bag, my entire body aching from the angle I was laying, and shaking from the freezing cold AC. After six hours I honestly thought I was going to die in Qatar.

Somehow the ninth hour arrived and I queued up for check-in. The lady took a look at my passport, looked at me, and told me to step aside and wait. I thought, “What now?” It couldn’t get any worse. A few minutes later the lady told me she had upgraded me to Business class due to overbooking and my long layover. She must have taken one look at me a decided there was no way I was going to survive 13 hours in coach. I was so happy I almost cried. I skipped all the way through the gate. My luck has finally turned for once.

I had the best flight home filled with champagne, wine, cheese, and a comfy seat that could be adjusted in 180 ways.

I’ve been feeling a mixture of comfort and depression now that I’m home. I miss my friends. I miss the food. I miss the beaches. I miss the dollar to baht exchange rate.

It’s been such a journey and I’ve reached some clarity along the way.
1) I am so lucky to be surrounded by such wonderful friends.
2) I am no longer settling for sub par boys.
3) I need to fly business class all the time.
4) I need to get back into gear, stop f-in around, and make that money so that I can afford to fly business.