I’ve been waiting for this day since the beginning of May – nearly four months. You’d think I’d be better prepared, wouldn’t you?
The reality is that I’ve been so very busy that I’ve hardly thought about our trip, except for some brief bursts of excitement and plotting to have three pair of socks made for myself to take along. Work has been crazy, with urgent projects being pushed aside in favor of more urgent projects, and deadlines that made that horrible “whoosh!” sound as they zipped past.
Our flight leaves this afternoon at 6:55. I’ve checked it five times because, as my mom (and many others) can attest, I’m the world’s worst and most forgetful traveller. Book me on a flight, and there’s a 90% chance I’ll miss it. I missed my very first flight ever, coming home by myself from Washington, DC, when I was 16 because I grossly underestimated the availability of change for a $20 on a Sunday morning so I could take the subway to the airport.
I once spent 8 hours in the airport in Honolulu, HI, because I misread my ticket and missed my flight by two hours.
I was the reason my entire family missed a flight from Chicago to San Diego by an entire day (again, I misread the itinerary).
Our most recent adventure involved an early morning flight that was missed because we overslept.
Which is why it’s been several years since we’ve been anywhere involving airplanes.
Which is why our flight is for this evening.
But I like Portland so much that, on the way back, we’re booked on a morning flight. I wouldn’t mind missing it…
I still have some packing to do (and my third pair of socks to finish), so I’ll check in later. Bye!