Well, our flight to SFO takes off in the morning. I'm in the midst of a packing flurry with alot of confusion. I've been watching the SFO weather and it's low 60's with lots of sun. I'm stuck in hot summer mode and keep packing too many tank tops. Kitty is getting nervous now that the suitcases are out. Packing looks a little skitzo. Summer clothes, warm clothes, and a cat. I will make sure the last one gets out before we leave. I promise. Really.
Traveling always causes me a ton of stress. Once that flight takes off, then I go in to excitement mode. Until then, I'm nervous, anxious, hurried, worried, frantic, out of it, can't make eye contact with my husband, don't want to be hugged, and there's a misplaced feeling of dread that fills me. Maybe I am actually afraid to fly? Or, maybe I'm bi-polar. I noticed yesterday that the flight itinerary has my old name on it. That was enough to send me into a rage. Apparently Mr. Right needed to update Travelocity. Or learn to proof read. Or both. The airline said to bring the marriage license, but what I heard is "be prepared to be strip searched".... and "we are taking your shampoo for that". I'm pretty good at reading between the lines :)
Is it normal to feel like you are going to the death chamber for your lethal injection when one is on the way to the airport? That is probably a no.
If I die on a Delta flight, please take care of my kitty.