As the days go by, I am closer to my trip to Oahu. I’ve bugged my friends who fly about all the “what-ifs” I can imagine, questions about what to put in a carryon bag vs. a suitcase, what kind of snacks to bring that don’t involve nuts, smelly food, and so on. I have filled up 17 tubes and tiny tubs with all my shampoo, conditioner, facial care stuff, etc. I have put “just in case” things into my carryon should my suitcase get waylaid.
With the help from my friends, I have loaded up my Kindle with lots of interesting books, but of course being me I am also bringing a “real” book—just in case. I have rehearsed in my mind how to approach the TSA; I’ve read all the rules, but am not adverse to playing the helpless older woman card; “dear, I’m so sorry to inconvenience you, but you see I haven’t flown since 2001.” Hopefully they won’t throw me in the cargo hold for that one.
I have a neck pillow, and I plan to wear my very comfortable black yoga pants (and by the way; why is there such a kerfuffle about them on a plane? They aren’t see-through leggings or pajama bottoms), and I will buy a pair of compression socks so that my ankles don’t balloon out on my 12-hour flight. Also I plan to buy some decent ear plugs just in case I get a yappy seatmate.
When I looked over my itinerary for the fifth time, I realized that a flight out of Boston at 8:00am means that I need to get there at least two hours earlier. This made me break out in a cold sweat (well, just a ittle one): that would mean that the Crankee Yankee and I would have to get up at a very early hour to get me into the airport on time. He mentioned that there is a bus in nearby Portsmouth that goes to Boston and could take me to the airport, hopefully in plenty of time.
I also thought about getting a hotel room for the night before I leave, which had mixed reviews from the Crankee Yankee (me, too, actually). What if I did that and no one remembered to give me a wake-up call and get the shuttle to pick me up in time? That brought on yet another cold sweat.
I still haven’t decided yet, but I certainly don’t want to have the Crankee Yankee up so early and have to face all that Boston traffic. Plus that would also mean that our cats would not get their breakfast on time (yes, I know; we are well aware that they are all spoiled rotten and are way too stubborn to change).
However, before my emotions went into complete panic mode, I thought of the little “break-throughs” I’ve had lately. You know how it is; you think you can’t do something all on your own and then you remember that you actually pulled up your big girl panties and did the thing you dreaded—with absolutely NO problems.
So, banking on that, I am now into the “if I could do that, then I can do this” mode. I will probably have the Crankee Yankee take me to the bus in Portsmouth, and I am sure that I will get to the airport in plenty of time. I also believe that things will go easily with the TSA and that I will have a perfectly comfortable flight.
Just because I haven’t flown since 2001 doesn’t mean that I can’t adapt. In fact, I am pretty sure that I can adapt AND overcome any fears, doubts or worries. In thinking it all through, I guess the worst thing that could happen would be if the person sitting next to me brought along their therapy peacock—how about 12 hours of that?