I just bought plane tickets to travel to ATL. On the day I turn 30, I will be alone on several airplanes and reading Vogue in several airports. I’ll arrive in Altanta late and tired, no doubt. How sad is that? I hope that I take it well. The flight back will be long. Very long. Like 5+ hours long. I’m not as agile as I used to be when it comes to flying. I require snacks (expensive airport food is preferable.) I require reading material (popular magazines are preferable.) I require wireless internet in my airport. Portland will have it. Denver will have it. Spokane will not. Atlanta will not. Of course, I’ll be spending the most time in Spokane and Atlanta because we have to arrive so early for our flights. 
When did I become so crotchety about flying? I am increasingly fearful when I fly. I am less capable of handling the extended periods of time trapped with smelly strangers. There used to be a time when I enjoyed flying. I dressed for it. Was sure I would meet someone interesting. Now, I say hello to the person next to me. I used to think it was too awkward not to say hello at the very beginning and get it out of the way, and then try to avoid them for the next five hours. Now, I’m rethinking that policy. Perhaps silence and avoiding eye contact is best. Ugh. Barf. It’s just expensive and it’s for work, and I’d much rather be spending that money on a trip to vacation at some tropical locale. That is all.


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