Going on an overseas trip for any extended amount of time requires careful planning and preparation.
You must be cognizant of your funds leading up to the trip, because of a little thing called foreign exchange rates.
Your job has to cover for you while you’re away, so you have to make sure you leave your work in the best shape possible (and be prepared to bring back sorry-I-left-you-with-extra-work-for-two-weeks-while-I-was-galavanting-in-Europe gifts).
And most importantly, you have to learn how to pack lightly and efficiently, which means you should ask yourself…
“Do I really need to pack these heels when there’s a 99.99% chance that I won’t wear them?!” Looking at you, sister...
So after all of my money was saved, the work was delegated and the packing was complete, it was time to head to the airport and, dare I say, #TravelLikeABoss.
Pause.
The following story is true. No names, dates or locations have been altered. This is my story.
Ding ding.
Play.
If you know me, you know that I do not like to get overly emotional, or sappy. I didn’t cry when my pet goldfish, Goldie, went to be with the Lord. Or when I didn’t make the talent show my 7th and 8th grade years of middle school (rigged). I didn’t even cry when Alabama lost to South Carolina in 2010, though that was a really dark time…
There was that one time when I started getting teary eyed during an episode of “Cold Case” but that’s neither here nor there. With the exception of canceled TV shows, I’m pretty chill for the most part.
For the most part.
The other part, though very small, loses all composure and dignity when it comes to leaving my family or loved ones for any amount of time. It was cute when I was in pre-school and I used to fall out when my mom would go back to work after eating lunch with me. It was embarrassing when my family dropped me off for school when I moved to a different city.
That was 45 minutes away from home.
Where I was getting my Masters.
…and I was 22.
So I don’t know why I thought this trip was going to be any different. To be fair, I made it through the goodbyes when my parents dropped us off at the airport, so I thought I was in the clear. I wouldn’t allow the kid to come see me off, because that would have been tragic, so I good!
Yet I somehow found myself in a bathroom stall, calling said kid and ugly crying like I did when I was four and watched my mom through the pre-school window driving away. It wasn’t cute.
But, after he calmly told me to get over it reminded me that I was about to embark on one of the greatest trips of my life, I composed myself enough to leave the stall and board my flight to what would become an unforgettable trip.