I am a Christian. I like to think I have a strong faith. I believe that God gives us strength to endure everything life throws at us. I know this because I continue to fly commercially.
I hate to fly. I hate it worse than doing my hair and anyone who knows me knows how much I hate to fix my hair. I would rather grade essays than fly. I would rather go to the dentist than fly. I would rather clean my house than fly. OK - so you get it. However, I MUST fly to get halfway across the United States for things that I enjoy: Eclipse Prom, New York City, to my new home. Yes, if I don't want to have to drive 14+ hours in a weekend in order to find a house in FL, I am going to have to fly - again. Since I just recently got back from Phoenix, AZ (yes, I took a plane - 4 planes to be exact) I'm not excited about having to get back on another metal cylinder hurtling through the air at the speed of ridiculosity. (I try to keep my self-inflicted, life-endagering experiences to one per year.) So, in less than 3 weeks, I will be boarding another set of 4 planes to head to Tallahassee to find our new house. Bleh.
Let me explain to you why this is not funny. I get airsick. Yep, I'm the girl who always checks the seat-back pocket for the barf bag. Sadly, medication does not always help. (Unless you count the time when I was 11, misread the dosage, took a whole Dramamine pill and traveled unconscious and drooling on the anonymous passenger next to me - Mom had to slap me to wake me up.) I am the girl who grips the armrests with my hands and wraps my ankles around the seat-base during the 20 minute descent. My husband made the mistake of waking me up just to let me know we were nearing the airport on our honeymoon - not his wisest decision. That one's ranked right up there with the time he asked me, "Are you going to get up?" 3 minutes before my alarm went off. Full strength Dramamine makes me a zombie - even for hours after the flight. Non-drowsy Dramamine doesn't work - I still toss my cookies. I was told that my problem is most likely psychological. In short, I psych myself into such a state that I get sick from nerves. So - "Bring on the Xanax!", I hear you cry. I have a wonderful doctor who gave me this beautiful drug and supposedly, I could now fly fear-free. But wait...you guessed it - I heaved on the way to AZ last weekend. I am the grown woman who has a 2 1/2 year old child who still throws up on airlplanes. Humiliating.
All THAT to say THIS: I press on in the field of education for several reasons but my secret goal is to help educate the young boy or girl who will someday perfect "beaming" a la Star Trek. (You'll have to ask MK for the appropriate Trekky phrase to insert here.) Until that day...watch your shoes.
1 comment:
To be fair, I thought you'd rather be awake for the impending death landing as opposed to sleeping through it. My bad.
And I don't ask, "Are you going to get up?" I ask, "When are you getting up"? 3 minutes before your alarm goes off. If you're gonna slam me, at least be accurate.
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