(SF Trip recap) A Rare View and a Light Rain

I have a coupon pinned to my bulletin board: it's good for one reduced boat-fare to Santa Catalina Island, redeemable any Monday through Thursday from now to November 1st. I tell myself whenever I see it (which is every time I sit down to do homework) that when I've wrapped up this semester, I'll take myself there for a well-deserved vacation. Summer isn't the best time to visit Catalina -- too crowded, too hot and everything's booked solid -- but just knowing that I'll be going, even if it's not until Fall (my favorite time to visit), makes me smile and helps me push myself through the hardest parts of the project.

As my plane to San Francisco circled out over the Pacific and around Catalina Island, I was amazed by the clarity of the view -- roads, buildings, cars, boats -- I could see almost everything, even though we were so high above it. I could even see San Clemente Island directly behind it -- something I've never seen that way before! To see it all so clearly just before the trip seemed like a good omen, so that put me in an upbeat, positive mood, even though I hadn't yet finished my presentation, and even though I was exhausted from so little sleep the week before. 

Flying out on Wednesday instead of Thursday proved to be an excellent decision. Not only did I save $40 on my airfare, but I also had an extra afternoon to acclimatize myself to my new surroundings, check into my hotel, unpack my clothes and have a hearty meal before setting to work on my presentation. At about two a.m., I felt confident enough about my presentation to close my laptop, have a warm bath, burrow into my bed and sandbag myself into a cozy position with the half-dozen pillows provided.

In airplanes and in hotels, I prefer a window-seat: I love to fall asleep with a view. My fifth floor hotel room didn't have as spectacular of a view as the airplane did -- few views can compare to that! -- but the architectural elements in the foreground, the neighborhood skyline in the distance, the flickering signs, and the light rain tapping on my window and changing the shape and color of things as it slid down the pane: it was all wonderful in its own way. And even though it was only a few hours of sleep, it was one of the deepest and most restful I'd had for nearly two weeks.