Deep thoughts at the airport

Honestly, there are, like, 500 empty seats around here, and the family with the whiney little kid, the hypochondriac mother googling and fretting aloud about viral encephalitis risks, and the father whose casually draped arm over our shared back rest is invading my personal space, have to sit right behind me. I'm like a magnet.

And the wi-fi is shitty.

It's definitely time for sushi.