Once upon a time, I went on a trip to New York. The summer semester had just ended and I was excited to relax a bit and enjoy the city. The catch? My family flew out early because they wanted to spend more time shopping. I had to fly alone.
Anyone who knows me will know that I am directionally challenged (if you tell me to go left I will most definitely go right.) You could see how this could be problematic, right? Anyways, on the day of my flight (also the day of my final exam… yeah ikr packing and studying at the same time was a nightmare) I studiously packed my 3.4 oz and less fluids into a quart sized bag and took a deep breath as I made my way to the airport.
When I got up to the counter, the attendant mentioned that my flight to Washington D.C. had been delayed so much, that I would miss my layover (which was the last flight of the day to NY).Luckily, my mom had the foresight to send a family friend to meet me at the airport (#momskillz). As I started to panic, the lovely family friend took over and began to rearrange things with the attendant. It turned out that the flight before mine had one open seat left, so I was able to get the last ticket. Once I calmed down a bit, I began to thank the wonderful family friend for helping me. However, the attendant interrupted me in the middle of my spiel, and told me to run. I had 10 minutes to get through security and to get to my plane because it was about to take off (AHHH I WASN’T IN SHAPE ENOUGH FOR THIS).
I made my way over to the TSA checkpoint (internally cringing because they always pat me down and rifle through my bags). Luckily, they were happy about my rule-following fluid packing skills (thank you google) and rapidly rushed me through. As I celebrated this small victory, I barreled my way over to my gate ( I sped walked past it two times until a helpful gentleman pointed me to my gate) with a solid 3 minutes to spare. After boarding the itty bitty plane, I realized that I was extremely thirsty (no thanks to the salty salty fries that I had eaten for lunch). Unfortunately, I had stuffed my carry-on backpack with my water into the little compartment above my seat and my neighbor was in a deep sleep (rip me). Thus, I slowly breathed in and out, trying not to think about my parched mouth. Somehow, I survived the long hour until refreshments were served, and I hastily gulped down my water.
Fast forward about 10 minutes, and I’m dying. Why? Because I have the bladder of a squirrel. I pee about once or twice each hour (in case you were wondering). So as I avoided the glaring fact that I had to pee, I pretended to take a nap, dreaming about soft cloud pillows and sunshine blankies. Suddenly, a loud noise jolted me awake (ha my pretend nap turned into a real one). The flight attendant was telling us to prepare for descent (THANK GOODNESS). This was when I realized that I was now extremely thirsty and that I also really had to pee (like what the heck how is this possible).
Anyways, the plane landed and we rushed our way into the airport, where I embarked on a new adventure (aka tried to find the bathroom) and was reunited with the sweet relief of being hydrated (yay water).
And the story continues (because I still have to find my gate for my flight to New York, and find food because my tummy is SO HUNGRYYYY).
See ya in a bit!
PS- pls pray for me I’m actually lost hahahahahahaha rip me