I actually even love traveling alone. [Gosh, I am such an introvert.]
What I do not love, however, is flying. I'm sure I've mentioned this before but my anxiety during take-off especially has progressively gotten worse throughout all my years of flying. Here's a little glimpse into my life:
+Start panicking before flight is even booked. Everything starts spinning
and a knot forms in stomach.
+Study flights for two-three weeks.
+Finally book a flight and heart rate immediately heightens upon confirmation.
+Spend the following weeks planning what outfits to pack and what songs to download.
+Wait until the night before to actually pack.
+Get 0-.5 hours of sleep the night before.
+Dizzy all the way to the airport, repeatedly say, "I hate this, I hate this" and take necessary medication to calm the heck down.
+Medicine never works. Proceed to panic.
Then the rituals begin.
+Go to the bathroom... at least once.
+Sit or usually stand at gate until my "Zone" is called [aka Zone A because I always fly Southwest and always check in early]
+Constantly check surroundings. [Survey the passengers. Any children?
Start to remember faces.]
+The walk down the long, dark, freezing cold, hollow tunnel to the jet is the worst. Especially that little gap between where the tunnel and jet connect. You know what I'm talking about. And the overwhelming smell of fuel.
The rituals continue.
+Walk onto jet and make eye contact with and say "hello" to every crew member I can.
I have to be able to trust them, okay?
+Immediately start scoping out the seats. I am very particular about where
I'll sit on a plane. It has to be at the wing. Preferably right behind the
+Get out my iPod/iPhone/book, place them in the seat back pocket, store my purse and laptop below the seat in front of me [because, uh, hello - I always check my luggage! Packing light? What's that?]
+Begin to pray as I continue to survey who sits where.
+I do not enjoy when the plane is half empty and no one else sits in my entire row. Is there something I don't know?
+I welcome children to sit in front or behind me. Because if they're laughing or giggling then that means everything is okay, right?
+More praying. Same prayer. Over and over... and over.
+Prepare for take-off. This is where I hyperventilate and almost pass out. It's pretty cool to watch.
This continues until either A) The flight attendants are given the okay to walk around and take drink orders or B) The captain comes on and tells us we can use all approved electronics.
So, who wants to fly with me? :)
Note from the above picture: Chelsea and "prop" planes? We don't get along.