I’m not good at planes.

I’m currently located 35615 feet in the air, traveling at an unimaginable 465mph. My flight is a total of one hour and thirty six minutes long. I fidget in my seat thinking about the process of readying for a plane ride vs how long said plane ride happens to be. It is ridiculous. Last night I packed all of my clothes and my boyfriends clothes into a tiny adidas duffle bag. Everything is rolled tightly, packed in snug as a bug in a rug, as your mother may have put it when you were younger. I’ve decided that my dresses will have creases in odd places and I will just have to be okay with that. After all, I’m unsure of if I even got the sad chocolate stain out of my favorite emerald green dress. I still brought it. I’ll still wear it.

After packing all of the clothes I had to give my purse a look over. Given the amount of marijuana I consume, drop, purchase, etc it’s a little hard not to be worried when I have to go through security. I don’t want any extra hassle. I emptied ever pocket, finding plastic baggies, stems, cigarette butts, pokey utensils for clearing and cleaning different things. I made my purse travel friendly and set it with our packed clothes. After that I placed our printed confirmation email on top of both bags and attempted to fall asleep.

Lying beside my boyfriend, I tried to take comfort in his inhales and exhales. There was nothing comforting about it. Usually I can utilize the sounds to help me drift off. I enjoy the mental imagery of trees and other plant life moving with each soft snore. Imagine an old cartoon where there’s a dragon or another large creature snoring. When he inhales all of the shrubbery and forested areas around him lean dramatically towards his slightly agape mouth, a powerful breeze moving through their leaves and branches. When the monster then exhales everything goes rushing the exact opposite direction.

My boyfriend is not a dragon or a monster. He just has helpful breathing patterns.

Last night however they were not helpful. They didn’t hinder me from a night of rest but they didn’t aid in it either. I couldn’t shut my brain off, which tends to be my biggest issue ninety five percent of my every day life. If I could just shut the thinky part of my mind down once in a while, I’d be golden. But instead of being able to do that I just work myself into atrocious anxiety attacks right amidst the attempt of slumber. Last night seven planes crashed in my head. It’s exhausting dying that many times.

I finally got to sleep because I woke up and it was five o’clock quite suddenly. I dragged myself from the spring sprouting mattress and shut the annoying alarm off on Aj’s iPhone. For a split second I thought about the suicide nets outside of the building the piece of machinery was created at. If I was responsible for such a thing I’d probably attempt to jump out my office window also. I get sad for a moment but continue on regardless, applying makeup, brushing my teeth, double checking my bag, smoking a cigarettes, more bathroom stuff, smoking a cigarette , and then waking Aj up. It is easier than I anticipated, he grumbles but moves.

After all of the getting ready and double checking we smoked a joint and got on the road. The drive was awful. We flew out of Logan. If you’ve done it, you get it and I won’t elaborate. Luckily I have a very kind friend who was willing to drop us off. The airport is completely out of the way for her (we are both New Hampshirites that still reside there, so nothing in Massachusetts isn’t out of the way). She is a good sport. I’m hoping she made it to work on time.

At this point I can see my destination on the map that’s offered via TV screens in the headrest of the seat directly in front of me. If I were to guess I’d say we probably have about twenty to twenty five minutes to go which is crazy to me. I feel like I just got on the giant sardine can in the sky. Not that I’m complaining by any means. This has been a bit difficult. Aside from all of the physical work that goes into making sure you are prepared for the flight, there is the mental game. The thinky part of my mind being a turd.

In the airport I tried to tell myself that the odds of my plane crashing were slim but not impossible, so I should probably come to terms and be at peace with the possibility of my own bodily destruction due to a freak accident or a not so freak accident. It was a mess, but. I should be safe now. The pilot just came over the radio. I should make it if the plane lands fine. I mean, if we don’t blow up on impact. If we don’t catch fire and burn. If our brakes don’t fail and cause total wreckage.

…it didnt. The plane landing went off without a hitch. I said goodbye to our fellow passengers. Across the aisle there was an elderly couple finishing each others sentences with ease and I really liked them from afar. When the older woman sneezed the man said Gauzuntite instead of bless you. When the plane ride ended, she let him leave first. They didn’t seem like your by the book older couple. I smiled at them and told them to enjoy their trip. The man allowed me, the “nice, well manored young lady”, to go on ahead of him. I smiled harder.

We collected our belongings and headed toward the enterprise shuttle bus that would take us to their place of operations. We chose the Nissan versa to drive around in the next handful of days. It’s beautiful and comfortable. It smells as if it were just pulled off the Nissan lot and looks the same way. Currently we are sitting in it, waiting for our hotel room check in time to roll our way. We arrived two hours early so we crossed the parking lot and ate at Ruby Tuesday’s. People in the south are truly kind and I want to go back there once more before we leave.

I totally have a crush on the forty something year old manager that just wanted to talk to us. Damn I love nice people. We ate what she suggested and drank beers merrily. Well, I did. Aj has been dealing with family things since we arrived. I almost feel bad that this trip is going to be so terribly easy for me and not so much for my other half but he will live.

It’s three p.m. it’s check in time. I’m about to take a ten hour bath if I’m lucky.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s