So it’s 5:04. A very romantic hour for a very unromantic place.
I say that because I believe that 5 in the morning is for early morning commuters with busy lives with equally busy smartphones. It’s for late night lovers with groggy smiles and sleep-crusted eyes. It’s quite a diverse hour.
But the airport is probably the least romantic place in the modern world.
Any romance novel, movie, or television show that revolves around plots with airports in the mix are sorely misconstrued. Except for The Terminal. That was a great movie.
I’m boarding the flight soon. And in less than 24 hours, I’ll be leaving behind the land of crying children, plump carry-on luggage, and complimentary drinks. I do love ginger ale. I think I’m the most excited for that.
Okay, well not technically midnight, because I’m going to sleep at 9:30 today.
All because of a hugely inconveniently timed flight. What person wants to fly at 5 in the morning? Not this girl.
But oh well, at least I’ll get sleep on the plane. And hopefully it’ll qualm my fears of tripping over the usual introductory greetings with new, soon to be friends.
Am I the only nervous flier out there? Because I get ridiculously anxious when flying. Not just because of the now routine worries of airport attacks and crazy people with guns and knives (I’ll openly admit that yes, I do watch an inappropriate amount of crime dramas and law procedurals.) But also because I’m afraid that everything that could go wrong in an airport will go wrong.
Lost luggage, not enough money, stolen wallet, no food, bad food, no wifi (why would that even be a thing?), delayed flight, cancelled flight, lost human being (a.k.a. me), inappropriately targeted security check.
I could go on, but then I’d get a panic attack and hide in my room until next month.
I should just remember, I’m young and smart and have a smartphone.
I have time to figure things out. Even at a crowded airport.
Things will be okay, and I’ll get to my final destination in one piece…as long as I have my meds.