We all hate it. Long hours in cramped spaces. Packing yourself up with less and less space that costs more and more. Screaming babies, panicking flight attendants, and people with poor spatial awareness, all in one pressurized air tube.
Today I get to experience this colorful haze of glory in order to attend a family reunion. It’s going from one frying pan into another! You know the saying Chelso.
I have only found relief in this process by distracting myself with people watching, because there’s always something weird to look at in an airport. Currently I have people doing yoga in front of me, waiting at the gate. If nothing else, I would have missed this had I stayed home today.
This may be the last family reunion that this side of my family has for many many years to come. My grandma passed recently, and she was the glue that held this weird group together. And without her presence I doubt this weird group will come together to be weird in the future. I always have an awkward time with “lasts,” because there is an inherent importance with it that I never know what to do with other than to accept it. I also found that if I do more than just accept it I really just cry a lot. That’s what last means to me, lots of tears haha.
And I felt that you should know Chelsea, that the only thing I have been genuinely looking forward to is to finally use the silly blowup travel pillow you gave me.