Yesterday at approximately 5:15am I experienced a crazy angry - panick - attacky vibe. I was standing at the United Airlines Ticket Counter line in Albany International Airport. Chris had just pulled away from the curbside drop off and I was focusing on remaining totally calm as people in front of me jockeyed for position at the checkin terminals and juggled or struggled with all their various bags and paraphernalia. As I grew near the front of the queue I decided I'd better go ahead and pull out my confirmation number and ID. I unzipped my walet and easily found the printed page with loads of scribbles that had the confirm #. The color copy of my passport that I had geniously created late last night was also front and center. One must have a copy of your passport. It was on my to do list, one of the last things I remembered to do. At any rate, there it is. What is MISSING is the original passport. Still tucked between the lid and glass of my scanner printer safely at home.
WHAT??!!! SHIT FUCK DAMN! You can imagine, if you take a moment, my surprise, anger, disbelief, frustration... is this registering with you? Can you feel it? The pit in my stomach was enormous, I was shaking and flushed. Are you kidding me? The ONE thing I can't be without?! It took a minute, maybe less, for all these emotions and thoughts to rush through me. I was now at the front of the line and - miracle of miracle - another flight leaves at 10 am and connecting through DC will get me there no problem. I have Chris on the phone... please rush home and get my passport. It's impossible for him to get back in time (40 minute round trip) to check in for the original flight but the one at 10am is no problem.
I hang up the phone, get an Americano from Dunkin Donuts (not bad actually), pee and prepare to wait for Chris' passport rescue mission return. I've been talking about this trip for weeks. I made the reservations to meet my friend, Joyce, at her timeshare in Hotel Marina El Cid Spa & Beach Resort near Cancun Mexico in October. I was looking forward to the trip, "girls only" time. I wasn't hugely excited or enthusiastic my last experience in the area was not great... a cruise to Cosumel turned into a 2 year plus ongoing nightmare. A story for another day. I feel fat too, not exactly the frame of mind for flourishing and flaunting of swim suits and sundresses. I also don't lay out in the sun, I drown myself in sunscreen (I had melanoma, hello!) and I don't drink. What the heck will we do? Joyce did make reservations for fabulous activities... swiming with dolphins, touring some ruins (saw those in Cosumel), and running around some island La Muera. Sorry, still not terribly excited. I kept trying to picture how we would interact and hang out. I figured there wouldn't be much sleep at night... surf sounds and snoring and all. I promised, if impuslively, and here I am, still astonished beyond belief that I managed to leave the FUCKING PASSPORT in the printer/copier! Chris had even asked me if I had it as we left the house. "Sure! Check!"
All the travelers had cleared out once I returned to the ticket counter. The UA staff were chatty and nice... apparently my 10am departure was delayed and I'd miss my connection in DC. Strike TWO... I'm starting to think this is just not meant to happen and these pretty astonishing signs from the Universe should not be ignored. William peristed to make valiant efforts to get me "out of town." Unfortunately the options included additional stops and layovers and plane and airline changes. I refuse to make this whole enigmatic trip crazy difficult. I'll be so pissed by the time I get there I'll just be detoxing by the time I come back next Saturday. Sorry Joyce.
It also didn't feel right to change it and do this whole 3am run around tomorrow. They did have my original trip same time Sunday. I already didn't sleep Friday night in anticipation for this morning... leaving tomorrow would mean two nights with no sleep. Once again my quality of life was questionable. Sleep is important. More than that it felt "OFF." In the past if I don't listen to my intuition I'm generally very sorry. Ok, so finally I just told William... to CANCEL IT altogether. No sooner were the words out of my mouth than a HUGE wave of relief washed over me. NO SHIT... It was almost palpable like a warm, calming ocean wave, I could feel tingles and I started sighing deeply. Wow! Was I that torn about going all along? What's up with this? No guilt, no worries about money or cancelled activities - no stress only deliverance from some unseen weight. The guilt came later. when I had to text Joyce that I wasn't coming. In the moment there was only ease and a very unexpected bewildering comfort.
That's all for now folks. One very strange Non-Trip to Mexico and the unexpected relief of it all.
I decided back in November 2015 to make my poetry available and journal online. I'm not exactly sure what "blogging" means but I am quite sure this is an online journal. Feel free to read on with an aire of open minded curiosity. At no time do I intend to offend, judge or pretend to know anything really, I'm just an observer and explorer, as we all are. Feel free to "boldly go" through my observations and perhaps it will spark or inspire. Comments are off because I don't want to be worried about political correctness when I'm writing. I'm not thinking about "you." I'm just writing because it feels "right". Feel free to enjoy or surf on.
Fibber McGee's closet!