Leaving On A Jet Plane

  
As I sit here, nestled into my hotel bed in the strange territory that is Pacific Time, I contemplate my journey today. It began, as most journeys unfortunately do, with a sense of frazzled urgency, with a side of major anxiety on the side. We left the house in a hurry, only to realize we had forgotten things that required turning around to retrieve. Our lunch, which we had hoped to be a quick pit stop, turned into a more lengthy event than we had hoped. The airport, as I had anticipated, was somewhat of a logistical nightmare. Luckily, our flight was delayed, otherwise I don’t think we would have made it altogether! Safe to say I was full of anxious energy.

Don’t get me wrong: I love flying. There is something so romantic about it; the hustle and bustle of people shuffling to and fro, traveling from one end of the world to another. Merely being amongst this in an airport setting conjures swells of excitement within me. Today, especially, I was in disbelief. You see, none of this feels quite real yet. I feel as though I could wake up and be in Ohio at any moment, going about my regular business. I am not sure when that moment of clarity will strike, or what form it will take when it does. However, I hope that this will all feel more real (at least in a good way) very very soon. 

To me, the best part of flying is getting the window seat. I saw on Twitter once a tweet that read “Let me have the window seat so I know it’s real,” and I think there may be some genuine truth to that. I love to sit and watch the patchwork quilt that is the American landscape unfold in front of me. Flat plains, snowy mountain tops, and cityscapes all blend together to create one remarkable American terrain, full of character and differences, just like the nation’s citizens. And to have a front row seat to watch this all occur–wow. It certainly enriches the airplane experience. 

I miraculously survived 4-5 hour flight without any complete meltdowns, which I find to be a pretty significant accomplishment, being that I am generally too fidgety and movement-oriented for my own good. I would love to tell you more, but my first piece of advice from Adrian, my best friend and fellow West-Coast transplant, states that I must get some sleep because “jet lag is not kind.” That’s all I have for now, I promise more updates as I move into my apartment, which I begin doing tomorrow! 

x. M

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