Friday, May 23, 2008

You might say I'm overreacting, and you might be right

I'm sitting in the airport terminal waiting to board my flight to Denver, where I'll be spending the weekend looking for an apartment. All morning I was panicking, wondering if the luggage I checked (most of my winter clothes, which I'll be leaving with a friend) would meet the weight requirements. Or if my carry-on luggage was small enough. Or if the shoes I brought would be comfortable, or would I make it to the airport on time? Also? Every single time I fly, I am sure that I will somehow pack something inexcusably WRONG (tweezers, knitting needles*, hand grenades, etc) in my carry-on and be forced to go through some kind of terrible security screening.

In an attempt to calm myself down, I was telling people all about these worries this morning. And I'd always finish the thought with, "But I'm DEFINITELY not the kind of person who worries about the plane crashing. Not at all. I just worry about getting there and them letting me get on."

But now, after I've said that to half a dozen people today? I'm pretty sure I've jinxed myself. And I'll give you three guesses what I'm worrying about now that I've made it all the way through security.

*Both of these are apparently legal to bring on a plane, but I don't even like to be in a moving vehicle with a pair of metal knitting needles. So I'm suspicious.

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