Wednesday, May 18, 2011

The airport, my man. The airport.

Man. I hate night flights like I hate late afternoon/evening exams. Because you just sit there all day and frankly, you should already be totally studied up and should have already packed. So the day is just shot, a total waste.

I actually DID do most of my studying prior to the day of my last, late afternoon tax exam, but the day was still wasted with minor cram-studying or trying to convince myself IT'S COOL, YO.

But right now I kinda feel like's not like I have much packing left to do, and quite frankly, I do still have 13 goddamn hours. It's just the stress of OHMYFUCKINGGOD. I will be gone for nearly 3 months and I hope I don't forget anything. Like seriously, this morning I woke up (at some ungodly hour) and it was the first time I actively thought hey, I should probably set my passport with my wallet. This is the sort of shit just now crossing my mind? We may have a problem.

I also think I get more high-strung and less flexible the older I get. Considering I totally cried on the first day of second grade because I missed the instruction about where to put my lunch box, you can imagine that these are the sort of days when you probably don't want to be around me.


Anonymous said...

If you're like me at all, it gets worse. Or maybe I just notice it more...

Ellen Aim said...

Nah, it's a pretty steady level of crazy, but exxxtreme.

I am sure Alex remembers me nearly melting down back in 2001 at Kirby Lane around 2am when we couldn't sleep and I was about to leave for LAX/Tokyo in a few hours. Why was I freaking? I think because I hadn't mailed the electric bill? It was something rad like that.