Travelling, to me, these days has become one big Run-Away-Train-Ride. The minute I step outside what ever domicile I am stepping out of until I step into the other - it just feels (now) like an Out-Of-Control-Roller-Coaster-Ride. It shouldn't - I have given myself AMPLE time to get into my 'Airport Zen' in both Houston and LA - but yet - here I sit - impulsively blogging about NOTHING AT ALL, sweaty palms, with a half baked plot to overthrow the latest Vengeful Travel gods plot to derail my luggage getting on the plane with me (I won't go into it - you just don't need to see that deep into my fractured psyche, and it involves a backpack stuffed full of mens boxer shorts - so help me if I get searched there will be a lot of shrugging ... lots and lots of shrugging ...).
I decided to have a mini airline related panic attack - already - I guess just for practice and to make sure to keep me on my toes. I mean - seriously - how many planes can fall from the sky ... THAT I HAPPEN TO BE ON? OK, now I just cursed myself ... crap! I have been sitting here trying to calm down and I realize - I don't have the skills. Calm down? How? Why? For how long? Always coming back to that How? Seriously - How? Can someone tell me? I have about, oh, 30 minutes.
Give me a call ...
Thanks ever so much ...
2 comments:
So wild! Hopefully you'll sleep and have no white-knuckle experiences.
You can do this! Hopefully you will arrive without any crazy tales to tell (however hilarious they are to the rest of us), find Gary in your husband/hospital scavenger hunt, and then relax with your convalescing husband for a good month!
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