come fly with me

'My god, what's that? It looks like airline food!' said one of my colleagues as I sat down with the sandwiches that arrived in today's hamper delivery. (We get a lot of food, beauty stuff and random clothes sent in to the magazine.) She's right, it does look like airline food. And not of the easyJet variety either. I love airline food. I really do. I don't worry about what I eat while I'm in the air so it always feels like a treat to have bread AND butter, and creamy sauces that I'd never normally go for. Actually I just really like flying. From getting to the airport (really early so I can shop and have a drink before boarding) to sitting in the departure lounge people watching. It's hilarious what people consider adequate or appropriate to fly in. Crop tops and tracksuit bottoms. Flipflops, when it's snowing outside. Nighties. Clown outfits…
I'm always vaguely excited when I'm travelling alone and I take my seat on the plane or train. I always wonder if the man of my dreams is going to be sitting in the seat next to mine and whether we'll bond over a glass of fizz. It never happens of course. The fattest person I see while people spotting in the lounge is invariably the one holding the next boarding pass sequence number to mine.
So, what I'm eating looks like posh airline food. The same colleague also asked: 'Are you trying to up it to 20%?' The it in question is my body fat. I had it analysed today and can admit to having a mere 5%! That's the same as a McCain oven chip! My trainer was gutted – he's wobbling around with 12%!
If only I could convince my 5% to distribute itself around my body, rather than crowd round my belly life would be swell!