A long way to go

Allow me to share exactly how far it is from Melbourne to New York with the following, riveting story:

Yesterday morning, I woke a little before 7am, had a quick shower and a cup of tea, and drove Z to the airport. On the horizon, the rising sun lit the edge of a big cloud turning it brilliantly gold. I left Z at the terminal, battled rush hour traffic on the way back home, and had some breakfast. Then I rode to school, had a two hour meeting with the high school student I'm mentoring, spent a scintillating three hours editing an Excel spreadsheet, and another three slightly more scintillating hours watching lab-mates practice their presentations. The ride home was through crisp winter air, underneath bare-limbed trees silhouetted against a dusky sky. I made myself some dinner, did the dishes and headed down to the pub for trivia night. The pub was packed and, thanks to a new smoking ban, full of breathable air. After a few too many beers, I walked back home, thankful to not smell and feel like an old ashtray, and crawled into bed to read for a couple of hours. Eight hours later, I woke up, checked my email and headed back to Uni. I spent two hours working on a manuscript, another hour editing that damn Excel file, and caught up with the people who share my office. I was sitting at my desk eating lunch when I an email arrived from Z saying that he had reached his Manhattan hotel.

And that, my friends, is how far it is from Melbourne to New York.