Therapist: “So it seems like all those travel anxieties you had leading up to your Africa trip were, as usual, in vain, because none of them happened.”
Me: “Ummm….were you listening? I got a violent stomach bug, vomited across two separate countries/airports/airplanes, spent the whole last leg of the trip exhausted and achy– and I in fact STILL don’t feel like myself.”
Therapist: “Right but your fear is always that you’ll feel sick for no real reason. This was an actual REASON.”
Oh you are really fucking reaching today lady.
Leaving in a couple days for our honeymoon in South Africa….
Eric, filling out a questionnaire for the travel agent planning our honeymoon….
Eric’s flight (to Georgia, not Florida. Apparently.) was delayed yesterday.
It wasn’t. Eric has spent 32 years on earth thinking that airplanes sit on a mat of tar before takeoff.
That moment when your flight to go to Florida, a trip you’ve been looking forward to for months and upon which your mental sanity lies, is cancelled (because guys, it’s REALLY cold out there– no, not snowing. Just cold. And I’m not sure if you knew this, but back when planes were first built, no one considered the factor of coldness. I guess maybe coldness didn’t exist back then. And in the 112 years since that first plane was invented, no one has yet thought to coldness-proof the design, even though, as it turns out, much of the earth is cold.)
Fucking Spirit Air. Never again.
So what do you do? Book your only affordable option, which is to fly out from DC tomorrow, and which will involve you hopping on a 5 hour bus right now home to your parents’ house.
And is it worth it? Yes. Because, guys– I already painted my nails pink. If I stay in NY I’ll just look stupid.
Plus, Dad’s wine tonight. Things could be worse.
(But let me just clarify, in case you thought I was getting all Positive Patty on you– things could be a LOT fucking better).
*typed while defrosting my hands in Penn Station, sandwiched between two homeless men.