Passing through...2 hours in Changi Airport

I anxiously checked my watch. It was 21:59. My phone lied still on my desk. No buzz. No little envelope unopened. My shift would be over soon, and yet I did not know where I should go next. Flight status on the web marked: arrived. I stared at my phone, willing it to ring. It did.

Changi airport newly opened T3 looked flashy, but barren in the middle of the night. The only bar in this terminal shut at midnight, so unless I planned to gulp my drink in 5 minutes the night just had to be without. I guess I could drink tea,... I wanted to sleep when I got home after meeting my girls.

SMS: ...waiting for key, drop bag then come out to cu.

HH sent AL to meet me first. Hugs, kisses and stories of importing foreign maid kicked start a new day. It was good to have that familiarity, the kind you get with wearing old pajamas to sleep. I saw HH approaching, she waved from a far with a big smile on her face. The moment she sat down, she reached inside her bag for a duty free bag with a bottle of red wine. There were grins all around. For 2 hours we sat in an airport coffee shop, trading stories of yesterdays over wine in plastic cups. If only we had cheese... Did I mention simply how perfect it all was?

A few plastic cups later, we needed to call in the night... HH and AL had a plane to catch in a few hours. I had work to go to. Time to walked back to where we came from. It was fantabuloustic!!

It was always about the company. Always.