Which is why I come prepared with my favorite trash magazines, the knowledge of the nearest Starbucks, and headphones so I don’t have to listen to everyone else’s impatience-or worse yet-their life story. Do you leave your car? Take a taxi? Beg for a ride from some unsuspecting friend, promising to bring back something to make it worth them coming back to get you?Īnd then there’s the worst part about flying: the waiting. Once I overcome my packing debacle, which always leads to removing several articles of clothes only to later pack them again and then remove them again, then finally settle on repacking a few of the items because I must have thought to pack them initially for some reason … right? Then I’m faced with transportation to the airport. Will it be teeth-chattering cold? Or freeze-your-eyelashes cold? Are we going to spend most of the break outside? Inside? Do I need boots? Or maybe I won’t go anywhere because plans will be canceled due to weather, and I’ll have the entire night to do nothing but drink my dad’s homemade eggnog and eat sugar cookies while watching every Christmas movie on the Hallmark Channel, requiring my favorite sweater and fuzzy socks. I hate packing because I never know what I’ll actually need, inevitably leading me to overpacking in case I get caught going somewhere nice and need a dress or a laid-back environment where I need to attempt looking like a casual twenty-two-year-old. I find it completely overwhelming, especially if said travel is by air. Traveling has always been something I have loathed.
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