I leave for Ireland tomorrow night (or later today, since it’s past 1am now) and I spent most of today packing and unpacking and packing again – the whole time gripped by anxiety.
I’ll admit it. Despite the many, many flights I’ve taken, I am still a nervous flier. It’s the length of the journey. Thirteen hours is way too long to be up in the air, okay?
I’m just praying for sleep. I can usually sleep for nine to ten hours on a 13-hour flight and I’m hoping this flight will be no different. My seat is at the very back so hopefully I’ll be immune to crying babies. With any luck my seatmate is the non-snorey type too.
Besides the flight, I am also anxious about the time I’ll be over there instead of here. I don’t doubt that this trip, this sabbatical, will be nothing but good for me. I mean, I can’t even imagine how this trip will change me for the better. It’s just that…I’m actually doing it. I’m taking the leap. I know I’ll be fine but I can’t help but be a little nervous for me…