“Well, I’m sitting in the middle of LAX so I could easily blow up here, too…”

…is what I reminded my dad who was having London bomb anxiety. Why was my dad worried about London bombs? Because I’M FLYING TO LONDON!! And my dad is a worrier. Also the world really sucks lately.

I’m traveling, therefore I write about it. Its the only real writing discipline I have. 

So here I sit, two and a half hours til my flight. I’m so early I scored one of the cool personal couches Virgin Atlantic has at their gates. 

Leggings!

Nerd alert: I’ve been here for 45 minutes. It’s International Travel, they say three hours, I follow the rules, because I was raised by my mother. Also I’ve been looking forward to this trip for months.

Right, the trip! I’m visiting Stella. Besides being the best bestie in my whole world, she also has an awesome job that takes her awesome places sometimes (and Baltimore other times. JK, Baltimore, she loved you.) which is a great excuse to visit her! 

When London happened, she was all, “You’re coming!” and I was all, “Uh YEAH.” but really in my head I was like, “mmmmmlifemoneyTexasjobsapartmentpoor.” This went on for a while. Then, I read the latest in a years-long list of self help books (You Are a Badass by Jen Sincero, highly recommend) and there was a part about living ‘as if’. I’ve heard it before, I’ll hear it again, but in that moment, I thought, “I want to travel. If I really want to travel, I’m going to fucking travel and things will figure themselves out as far as mmmmlifemoneyTexasjobsapartmentpoor.” 

So here I sit, five months later, definitely on the backside of things figuring themselves out, not the least of which includes semi-moving to Texas, becoming my dad’s primary caregiver, moving back in with my mom, dealing with seemingly endless bank/moving /medical shit, getting an evil nurse’s aide fired, and having to admit to myself that my depression had hit a critical stage and it wasn’t something I could muscle through any longer. I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a shitty five months. 

BUT I’m happy now. Thanks so my family, my friends, my therapist, the staff at my dad’s facility and my dad’s antidepressants (I got my own prescription today! Yay!!) I’m finally here, out of The Shit. The broad strokes of my situation are the same; however, the natural progression of time has handled the situational shit and the gorgeousness of Lexapro has given me the head space to get some perspective. (I swear to God, I would do a national commercial for Lexapro for free if they’d let me.)

All of the above is just a long way of saying, I need this trip, I deserve this trip, and I intend to enjoy the hell out of it. 1 hour til take off! Yay!

Dinner! They give a chip :)