I'm mid-flight, well into the notorious Sydney-to-Doha 15-hour leg, and I know it's time to change my menstrual cup. I procrastinate, dreading the tiny cubicle and the terrifying sound of the aeroplane toilet flush.
In retrospect, a bad choice. But, as we know, hindsight is a beautiful thing.
Fast forward a few hours and we've…
It’s 15 minutes into my debut of solo travelling, and I’ve successfully sweated through a slimily thick layer of Men’s Sports 48-hour deodorant. I’m crouched in the corner next to the Student Flights booth with my head stuffed between my knees, I’m hyperventilating like a broken fan, and my vision’s sparked out into a swamp…