I've been up for a couple of hours this morning, since I had to wake my son up early, so that he'd have enough time to get tired by noon - when some medical test in sleep is scheduled for him.
There is still no trace of the sun, I really have no idea as to the exact time it shows up these days. Our alarm clocks get us out of bed typically about eight o'clock, which means we're late for most of places but in quite a good mood.
So, as you may guess, I'm rather miserable today in those pitch dark, polar night like circumstances. But - I'm thinking about my twin brother who's just checking in at the London Luton Airport, where traffic was paralysed on Saturday. And I'm, every now and then, checking the on-line live flight information, because the word "cancelled" still tends to appear all to often. Anyway, I hope his pink Wizzair plane will carry him here today, to Wrocław.
At the same time, when I look through the news, I see I didn't have the slightest idea what was happening at the British airports last weekend. Thousands of passengers had to radically change their plans for Christmas.
And here - one of my absolutely favourite Christmas song. About another type of travelling strain.
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