My friend and I live in Estonia, the northeastern border of the EU, and getting anywhere by plane means waking up in the middle of the night. Our boarding in Tallinn started at 5:40, and by 14:00 French, we were having lunch in Chamonix’s Little Boxes. After a bomb scare at Geneva airport (someone left a bag somewhere — I swear I wanted to just march in and open that fucker for all to see) — a Swisstours bus promptly took us to the centre of Chamonix. We didn’t know how (un)eventful getting there would be — I had had Janssen, my friend only 1 Pfizer shot and needed to be tested regularly — hence the relatively tame expectation of walking only 13 km to Les Houches that day.
When Was the Last Time You Had Yourself a Insert Your Name Day?
Sitting in my coaches office, doing a poor job withholding tears, I tell him “I need to get out of here, coach. I need…