This was the start of the last Super Sprint, which is what my company calls bringing our mostly-remote team into the office every quarter or so to work in a focused environment, with all the engineers and stakeholders in a room. It’s pretty intense.
But, in planning for this, I decided I didn’t want to spend any more time in hotels and eating at crappy chains in Irvine (where the company is located for some reason). So, instead of flying in on sunday and sleeping there, I flew in on monday morning ass-early. My friend Mike says, whenever the subject comes up, “They have a 6AM?” as in, that time exists? I’m here to tell you it does, and it’s just as bad as you think. I had to be at the airport at 6 for a 7am flight; I think I got up at 4. So, by the time I’m on the plane, I’m all hyped up on caffiene and can’t even nap properly.
It’s a morning flight, and I’d chosen my seat so that I could look out to the east, flying south. I always try to do that; imagine what side of the plane will have a better view and sit on that side. Sometimes I don’t get the seats I want, but sometimes that works out in my favor anyway. This time I guessed right, facing away from the rising sun was just the ticket. I couldn’t believe the color that came through in the photos. It was just as unbelieveable in person, the whole world bathed in pink light. You wouldn’t believe so much of any color could exist, but there we were, right in the middle of it.
I say we, but I might have been the only person looking; the flight, being ass-early on a monday, was pretty empty. I know at one point I looked up and I was the only person with an open window. I’ve heard there’s a direct flight, 16 hours, from Charles de Gaulle to SFO, that is this, the whole way (assuming you catch it at the right time of year, I suppose). I’d love to do that some day.
