While getting ready for Tucson, having my usual multiple panic attack-y spin-in-circles-and-squeal-while-throwing-stuff-at-suitcases spasms, I figured out my problem. (OK, maybe it’s not really The Only Problem, but it’s a pretty significant one.)
I don’t mind being in new places, but actually travelling to them makes my head ache and turns me crabby. It’s goingfrom one place to another that causes problems – the state of transition. In car trips, I can convince myself that the car is actually a destination, so being in the car going from point A to point T (or somewhere in between) is tolerable. I have books, knitting, beadwork, music, and a pillow for naps. I’m not changing anything but outside scenery.
But plane trips require Xanax and 2 Bloody Marys per hour for the duration, and knitting, beadwork, and books. An airplane can’t be the destination, (nobody in their right mind thinks sitting on an airliner is fun after the first 12 minutes) so the entire thing is a state of transition from one place to another. And it doesn’t matter if it’s to Houston or Japan. If I have to sit there listening to the engines whine without something to throw my brain out of gear, it takes 4 Bloody Marys per hour just to keep my rear in the seat and not clawing at the door. I avoid long plane trips like the plague. My husband travels for work, he collects millions of airmiles and I could go with him to any exotic place on the planet. I went to Europe once over 20 years ago, and to Alaska in 2005. (Alaksa was really a bit of a cheat, though. We flew to Juneau and took a small ship cruise around the Inside Passage for two weeks. Turns out that small ships are the same as cars – a destination of it’s own, with changing scenery.) Coming home, my younger son and I both considered trying to find another way back to Texas that didn’t involve air travel. That doesn’t work coming from Juneau, unfortunately.
Tomorrow morning we’re driving to Tucson as always. The only states of transition are from my house to the car we’re driving, from the car to the hotel room in Tucson, and the reverse when we come home. That should be doable, even at my most dithery. (I’m not sure if that’s a word, but it should be.) And we’ll be there buying wonderful beads and stones and pendants and anything else Fabulous we can get our hands on. And staying up late and laughing till we can’t catch our breath while pricing that day’s finds.
And then we transition from Silly to Asleep.