1 just turned to 2, it’s 11:52 pm. At 3am again I’ll have to wake up, shower (optional), get dressed, and head out. I still can’t believe it’s happening. I’ll be getting on to a plane for the first time in 22years of my life.
It’s been exhilarating, the build up for this but now I’m really just scared. Paranoia, the mole I can’t get rid off, has been feeding my anxiety with fears. That I’d not able to take the flight, or that they’d ask to go back because they don’t want me on their flight. Stupid things that my anxiety undoubtedly believes.
It’s 12:01, my yawning is getting serious. The ride to the airport is at 4am, I’ll be in Goa by 8am and won’t be back for days. Everything sounds good, except the anxiety inducing idea of getting on plane.
The idea of getting to see a great a view from air, getting on to a plane, traveling by air, pretty air hostess and a vacation are exciting but the anxiety is nerve-wrecking. But I can’t wait to write about the speed of the take off, if I’d barf or get off land smoothly.