There is never enough time. I even had ten more days than I anticipated bc plans change and life is fluid and there was STILL not enough. Not enough time to snuggle with my baby sister, or talk on the phone with my middle sister away in college, or get my ass kicked at the gym with my mom, or laugh my butt off with my dad about dumb jokes that don't make any sense to anyone else. Nor is there enough time to see everything I want to see in the world and experience it in all the ways I can. Apparently, however, there is plenty of time on this 10.5h flight to Copenhagen for me to watch an entire season of The Big Bang Theory and then unabashedly cry my eyes out bc I realize how much it's going to cause me physical pain to be away from my family for however many months. See what I did there? I'm talking about my emotional turmoil, but in a morbidly funny way. It's a coping mechanism, and it's kind of my thing. I would be a brilliant psych study if anybody's got the time.
Anyway, it's all very familiar. Printing my boarding pass (which wouldn't work at the kiosk so I had to wait in line while the guy asked me if I was sure I was flying today bc my passport wasn't registering ARE YOU KIDDING ME DUDE YOU GAVE ME A DAMN HEART ATTACK OH MY GOD), checking my bags - had to pay for 'em but it's fine bc this ticket cost me $200 so I can handle the extra financial burden, aggressively fast-walking through the terminal after finally making it through security behind about a billion families with small children, the invariable flight delay because nothing goes according to plan which is actually perfect bc I'm running late, the almost-genuine smiles of the flight attendants who do this every day, the apologetic grin you give as you ask the people in your row to move so you can sit down, the decision you make whether or not you plan to be friends with your flight mates or put in your headphones (rocked the headphones approach today), the obnoxious intro video that you can't help but watch out of the corner of your eye just in case there's a water landing and you get to use the super cool detatchable rafts, the sound of the plane getting ready to leave the runway, and the feeling in your gut when you're no longer touching the ground, and the waiting until the socially acceptable time to lean your seat back so you don't anger the person behind you.. It's all very familiar. Comfortable. I'm in my zone. But nothing is the same. There is no return ticket. There is no feeling of "same old, same old." Granted, my current plan is to be home in eight months or so to see the family after hopefully having been accepted into a German grad school, but as I mentioned earlier, plans are made to be changed.
As of right this moment, I have two scarves, two massive winter jackets, two bags (one big backpack for Southeast Asia which will be dropped off at Sassy's when I get to her in 10 days, and one rolling carry-on sized bag filled to the absolute brim with winter clothes), and two legs to get me where I need to go. By the way, I like to give credit where it's due, and I would like to declare publicly that I would not have made it on this plane with any less than two massive duffels if it weren't for my incredible mother, Sara, who helped me pack and repack and stuff and remove and shove and eliminate with the patience only a woman who works with (and apparently lives with) special needs kids can posses. Mind you, she also kept sneaking snacks and chapsticks and socks into little empty spaces she found so I'm not actually sure if she helped or hurt the process, but regardless, thank GOD for her. In true Alex fashion, I wasn't actually packed until about two hours before I had to leave for my flight. Shocker. This was convenient, however, bc the whole fam (minus Sam) got to drive me to the airport... and then hurriedly send me away so I wasn't late for my flight, bc the Janecek's are incapable of getting literally anywhere on time, even if our lives depend on it. In this case, our lives didn't, but even if they did... still no.
In theory, I should be getting some sleep. This flight left at 6:30pm California time and lands at 2pm in Copenhagen which means I'll only have a few hours to experience this city in the daylight before it gets dark and cold and horrible and I curl up in a ball in my hostel dorm bed - which I have no doubt will be mind blowingly comfortable (ha).
Things I would complain about if I wasn't literally about to be traveling the world for the next 8 months or so:
I cannot find a comfortable position to sleep in
I have no data on my phone so I will be navigating my way to the hostel without the help of technology (may never arrive)
I didn't have time to download music onto my new phone before I left and idk if you know this but music is my life so I'm kind of dying right now
I am remotely concerned my body is not going to adjust well to the frozen tundra that is Europe in winter
The girl sleeping next to me keeps falling asleep on my shoulder
I am not excited to carry all my bags around for the next ten days
The girl sleeping next to me woke up and read what I typed two lines up
Reasons I won't be complaining about any of the aforementioned things:
Lol are you serious I'm about to backpack fourteen countries for eight months WHY would I complain about ANYTHING
But for now, six hours of uncomfortable flight time stand between me and a new country to add to the list, so if you'll excuse me, I think I'll take a nap.
Goodnight lovelies - until next time!
About the Author
Mouth like a sailor, great lacker of empathy, paper cut survivor, avid arguer, harsh critic of people who put clothes on their pets, easily distracte
USA, Mexico, Iceland, Austria, Germany, France, Spain, Italy, Portugal, Morocco, Malta, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Ireland, Denmark, Czech Republic, Hungary, England, Poland, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, the Philippines, Scotland, Belgium, Luxembourg, Croatia, Greece, Vatican City, Latvia, Estonia, Finland
Home for Christmas
Central America, maybe?