Sleep.

Airport benches, planes, airport floors, train stations, caf√©s against the wall, sleepers two feet wide on overnight trains, buses, backseats of cars, park benches…these are all places in which I have become adept at sleeping, regardless of noise, light, time of day, temperature, and comfort.

Perhaps this ability started many years ago as I shared rooms with sibling after sibling, or lived in the six-girl at Theta, but it has definitely been honed in the last year of my life as I travel from country to country. I can’t complain…though I would never call these “quality sleeps”, oftentimes interrupted by security guards telling me I need to move to a different area of the airport or something similar. I guess that endless number of all-nighters I pulled in college have prepared me for this, though my “adult internal clock” always wants me in bed by ¬†midnight now. Oh, the effects of growing up.

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