Monday was the last day I spent with my Dad, the two of us sipping coffees at El Gato. I love the laid-back atmosphere there – the slow pace, the easy chatter of customers in the background, everyone happy, unhurried. The staff add to it all, focused, but cheerful and open.
Was a little surprised by how relaxed my parents were at the airport. There we were again, sitting around a table with teas and a coffee (for Dad), chatting about random things. It all felt quite easy-going, no sense of rush. And that's what I like.
So, it happened I started Tuesday on a plane. After the journey that ended around two a.m., I managed about three hours of sleep before heading off to work the morning shift. I thought I was doing grand, all things considered, but by the early evening I felt washed out and unwell. It was a strange feeling; looking back, I think I simply forgot to drink enough water (especially, that I was walking a lot, mostly drawn out by the sunshine), and I paid the price for that little lapse in judgement.