My journey to the beautiful Austrian alps begins with an annoying buzz of the alarm. I ignore it. I've been tossing and turning from the heat all night (well, half the night - 2:50am isn't exactly the usual morning start for me!). Even with my window open right next to me, I'm boiling. This is when the pleasant privacy of having a room on the top floor of a 3-story house comes to bite me in the bum. When i rule the world, heat will sink or rise at my demand. No more silly convection currents.
BUZZ BUZZ! I put my alarm on snooze.
Gone are the days when the pure excitement of knowing I'm going on holiday gives me all the energy i need and more to get me up in the pre-dawn time of the morning. Oh, to be six again...
Right Jen, stop being pathetic and get up. You should be excited.
Damn. The plan of setting my alarm 10 mins earlier than my sister's so i could get in the shower before her must have slipped my mind when setting my alarm to the 10 minute snooze. She's in the shower. Well done me.
But that's okay, I'll go and get my PJ shorts that i washed yesterday out of the washing pile and pack them while i wait. Searching through the ironing pile, shirts on shirts, jeans on jeans, vests on vests... No sign of the shorts. I dig deeper, 'i only washed them yesterday, surely they can't be too far down?!' I wonder. This is frustrating now, how can they not be here?! Gahh!
Are they not hidden in-between clumps of clothes? I fling the surface garments everywhere in frustration - just to make sure. And cue the epiphany! They're tiny, un-important floppy pyjama shorts. Why would they be in the ironing pile? Surprise surprise, they're right there with the non-iron pile in the other room. My family is so organised... Grrr...
After showering and dressing and make-uping and some last minute packing, i find myself checking off my trusty list for the last time, which brings me to wondering how anyone can pack a suitcase without a one. I once forgot my bikini on a summer holiday (yes, i know, i am a disgrace to human kind), and guess what, for that holiday i didn't use a list!
We leave the house in the pitch black as the usual routine occurs of my sister and I talking excitedly about how we do love getting up early for holiday flights, and mum shushing us, "everyone's still asleep remember!" ah some things never change - no matter how officially adult my sister and i become (I'm 16 and she's 18, but all that should mean is more mischief as we can both drink in most European countries)!
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