I am supposed to be on a plane right now.
But instead I’m sitting on my couch experiencing a faux diabetic coma from eating a cinnamon bun from Flakowitz.
It wasn’t even my fault–and had you had told me I wouldn’t be on that plane today, I would immediately assumed my airplane anxiety would have made me chicken out or something.
But no. After all, we’ve got a week (well, now slightly less) of luxury to look forward to for our honeymoon.
I can’t tell you why I’m not on the plane right now–only that our fight was cancelled. No explanation. Nothing. JetBlue changed our flight to tomorrow morning and I missed an entire night of our honeymoon. Yeah, I’ll admit it. I started crying in the bag check line. Our travel agent said we could try to reschedule another flight for today, but she couldn’t get us the seats I wanted with extra leg space (so I’d be nearer to the bathrooms and less claustrophobic.)
So tomorrow it is.
Packing. Gearing myself up to get to the airport. Just preparing my brain for the idea of travel is a huge mental and emotional effort. So to have it all for squat…I’m just really drained.
I think after a good walk and a good nap and a good meal I’ll feel less slighted. My mom says that when a flight is cancelled it’s because it was going to crash. I’ll stick that in the positives list. That, along with having an extra day to dump the garbage I forgot to dump, finish the laundry I wanted to finish–and preparing myself before one more big day of excitement where I’ll get to see snow for the first time.
The following is an overly dramatic quote for an undeservingly non-dramatic situation.
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