I had not truly realized how lonely my life was getting to be until the other day when I was on a layover in Rio de Janeiro, in my hotel room about to take a nap, and the maid knocked on my door.
As I ran up to throw some clothes on realizing I forgot to hang the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door, and that I was in just underwear, I quickly got dressed and answered.
See, when you are a flight attendant your monthly projection of flight hours varies tremendously, but is usually scheduled between seventy to eighty, for the most part.
If you held a line of Caracas turns (remember those are worth 10.10 hours each), you fly seven or eight of those maximum and you are done. In a thirty-one day contractual month, you are working seven to eight days out of thirty-one. I just recently discovered the beauty of international turns, and since then have been parading on to my work wife Ivey just how much I love them. The hours are long, the day itself is never-ending, but the day reaps with flight hours, the crews are amazing (most are very senior mothers just trying to work and raise kids), and the destinations usually coincide with easy-going vacationing crowds.
But not to worry, as then I moved on to Sao Paulo, which I flew until my little heart was content. And once again, not to worry, I really started to explore new destinations such as Zurich, Rio de Janeiro, Buenos Aires, and the United Kingdom.