Vacations make me anxious. Wait, no. Vacations make me happy. Packing for vacations make me anxious. Getting to the airport and going through security makes me even more anxious.
Does my luggage weight meet the requirements? Or is it overweight? (Spoiler alert: it’s overweight.) (Plot twist: the really nice check-in person waives it off.)
And then there’s the anxiousness of going putting your things through the TSA things while trying not to take too much time and hold up the line. And then there’s picking up your things on the other side. Grab and go. But it’s not that simple because you need to put back your shoes etc etc.
And I’m not hating on the security June. I think security screenings and all that are very important. It’s the people behind me that makes me anxious. I think I should be able to take my time. But I know it would be rude to take too much time without consideration for others. I guess that’s what makes me anxious the most.
Then you have to walk to your gate. (Note to self: Delta gates are on the furthest side of the airport.) And then there’s boarding the airplane. And putting your handcarries away. Putting it in the above overheard compartments makes me so anxious. I always feel like people are watching and it’s a mixture of judging me and wondering if they should help.
But it’s having the window seat and seeing the sunset or sunrise above and with the clouds that make my anxiousness go away. (Are you a window seat person June? I feel like you are.)
And it’s when I get there all safe and happy and ready to get at it – that’s when my anxiousness is gone. That’s when I think, ‘why was I ever so anxious?’ That’s when it’s all worth it.
By the time you read this June, I’ll be thousands of miles above the ground in sky. I might already be there.
I’ll write to you soon.
Love and all the good things,