There's only one thing I dislike about going to college in Connecticut: I live in western Montana. Montana is a smaller state, population wise, which unfortunately means that airports are not exactly easy to fly into. As a result, I spend over 6.5 hours in the air at a time, and when you hate flying, that never results in a positive experience. I flew into Montana back on the 20th and was more than relieved to touch down, but I certainly learned some lessons from flying alone for the first time.
1. Don't pack everything less than five hours before you leave.
I am low-key a notorious procrastinator. Though my tendency to procrastinate academically has been normalizing as of late, I still have some problems with some of life's logistics. I pulled an all-nighter before I left for the flight just to pack and clean my room. It was some of the deepest anxiety and dread I have ever experienced. I should have gotten everything done well before the flight and relaxed a bit, maybe even slept. I'm certain it would have made the whole procedure much more efficient.
2. Don't laugh at people who are running towards their gates.
I must have silently giggled at least 12 different people sprint towards their gate 10 minutes after the woman at the desk announced the gate would be closing. Though this little bout of schadenfreude was probably in response to the immense mental anguish I was experiencing at the time, I quickly realized why it is said that people in glass houses should not throw stones, as I only had 15 minutes to reach my connection in Atlanta—an airport I never want to see again. I understood the panic on their faces after not hearing a friendly female voice over the intercom say "this train is about to stop" and subsequently felt years of social anxiety hit me at the same speed I slammed into the back of the train car I was in. I barely had time to get a smoothie, and by the time I arrived at the gate, I still had a few minutes left before boarding. Everything went just peachy keen.
3. Eat. Your. Lunch.
Except for when my stomach's ceaseless rumbling woke me up in the middle of my connection flight. I had figured the smoothie I bought—a large and rather filling cup of deliciousness—would keep me full. Oh good god, was I wrong. It was only a matter of time before I was running on empty. Fortunately, I had a granola bar in my bag that brought the internal riot to a dull roar, but it did not last. By the time I got off the plane I was considering eating my laptop. If I had just stopped, taken a deep breath, and realized that I had time to eat, I would have been spared a lot of unnecessary discomfort. However, I soon remembered that, when on a plane—
4. You are not going to be comfortable. Deal with it.
Whenever I mention that I hate flying, I inevitably hear "but you could just sleep" at least twice per conversation. Here's the thing: I can't. At least not without a struggle. Being a notorious insomniac, it is very difficult for me to sleep on my own mattress, let alone a horrendously cramped plane with seats that ignore every principle of ergonomics. That's the thing, though. Even though not sleeping for well over 24 hours had provided me enough exhaustion to sleep through about one-third of the flights, I know that I need to take some precautions. I have to use my resources to allow myself to relax. Whether it be turning my music up and not moving a muscle or buying one of those ridiculous donut pillows, if it stops my relentless complaining, I see it as a victory.
5. No, the plane is not going to crash.
One of the biggest factors behind my inability to get comfortable is a latent fear of plane crashes. Even though I know that it's basically a zero-percent chance that I will die in a plane crash, I can't shake the thought that any turbulence automatically leads to a fiery death after plummeting over 30,000 feet out of my head. I have to remind myself that I am going to be okay at least sixty-two thousand times before I can calm down, but when I finally reach that insurmountable goal, I finally can get some shut-eye.
6. Go to the bathroom before the flight boards.
Until my bladder decides I need to be America's Next Top Model by forcing me to put my best runway face on to mask the pain having to go to the bathroom had left me in. Normally, I like to think that I have a bladder of steel. I can hold it for hours under normal circumstances. But, there's something about drinking a 24-ounce smoothie in less than half an hour that sent everything spiraling out of control. I apparently just need to learn moderation and, above all, how to not look like eight crack rocks are in my system while going to the bathroom.
7. Small talk with the people next to you is not as bad as you think.
Upon returning to my seat, a nice woman who was seated next to me asked if I was okay. I told her that I was doing much better after a brief exorcism in the bathroom, which then struck up a conversation about her pea garden back home. I, of course, chuckled at the mention of peas because I am actually nine years old, and proceeded to chat for most of the remainder of the flight. My introverted self would normally refrain from small talk at all costs, but the two women seated next to me made life quite a bit easier. I had something to distract me, which certainly helped me to relax quite a bit. But, most importantly, I had actually met someone who is a native Montanan for the first time since I arrived in Connecticut. It was a beautiful experience.
8. Prepare to get sick.
By the time I got off that second plane, I looked at my family and was ecstatic. After more than three months of being apart, I finally got the chance to see them again. We had an excellent hour-and-a-half in the car as we drove home. We chatted about life, friends, my academics, it was all hunky dory. Then my friends and I watched Star Wars: A New Hope to prepare to see Rogue One, making my time back even better. By the time we saw Rogue One the next night, however, I would be hating my life as a vicious case of gastroenteritis prevented me from watching the ending of the movie. The next three days would consist of nothing but suffering and starvation. My holidays have not exactly been the best as of late, but at least I have the knowledge necessary to predict when the devil enters my life.
