theflightattendantlife.com

I saunter up to the host at one of the restaurants at this beachside, all-inclusive resort in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. My bright green teal skirt is offset by the dark leather purse hanging loosely over both shoulders

This is Jet Life— Confessions of a flight attendant. Note: I wrote this months ago, but added some in at time of publishing

I didn’t think I would like private aviation and I’m glad I broke my ankle as I don’t think I would understand how strong I actually am. I’m glad that I struggled through a minimum wage job because I don’t think I would appreciate all of the people who came behind me and are doing what I had to do at one point. I feel like I’ve neglected you and this blog, but it’s not because I don’t care or because we are not gonna keep doing this thing.

It’s over ten years in— or maybe it’s your first year— but either way, every bright and shiny element of flight attendant life is faded; dull and tarnished by your jetlag, the worst of travelers and those god-damn sassy stews who overshare everything from the Union drama to last night’s “laid-over life. ” You try to smile politely, but your smiles are more of a pursed-lipped grimace