I'm So Glad I Amuse You

The next time I fly to Canada, I'm booking an open-ended ticket.

That way if I catch a nasty cold from my sister, coupled with a severe allergic reaction to four hyperactive golden Labrador retrievers the day before my scheduled return flight, I can stay a few days longer to recover, instead of running a 26-hour day, of which 16 would be spent stuck in a desert-dry tube six miles off the ground.

Then I'd avoid returning to Hong Kong feeling like death on a cracker. A stale cracker.

With a jet-lag chaser.

And then maybe I wouldn't have to suffer a sudden, paralysing mid-afternoon crash three days later, forcing me to drop everything and stumble toward the bedroom like a zombie while my mother-in-law laughs at me from the living room.

It'll cost more for an open-ended ticket, but it'll be worth it to preserve what little dignity I have left.

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