My Travel Identity

Within my first six months of this new career, I’ve visited virtually every corner of the Untied States and traveled 35,000 miles, which translates to a lot of time sitting on airplanes, and even more time in airports waiting for flights. By my own fault, I once spent 7 hours overnight at LAX trying to get home from San Francisco. I huddled underneath a charging station in order to avoid the glaring fluorescent lights in a sad attempt to catch even an hour or two of sleep, to no avail.

While I like to consider myself a savvy traveler, the reality is quite opposite. I’m a chronic over-packer, a habit I hope to outgrow sooner than later. I am rather short (5′ 0.75″ to be exact), and often men on airplanes will offer assistance with lifting my luggage up into the overhead compartment. I laugh to myself every time as they “Oof!” while lifting and comment on the weight. I just tell them my bag is full of rocks (and they laugh every. damn. time).

I hate sitting idly at the airport, because in my mind, that’s more time I could have spent sleeping in or getting work done at home. If I’m traveling in the mornings, I’ll down 3 cups of coffee before boarding, and still manage to fall asleep on the plane (it’s a gift). For any red-eye flight, I usually stake out a spot at the airport bar until boarding time and eat a full meal with a glass of wine before popping a melatonin and passing out on the plane for the entire flight.

I generally prefer traveling in the evenings because it allows me to wake up in the new city, ready to tackle presentations and client visits the following day. However, evenings are when I’m the worst traveler. The work day is over, so I’ll treat myself to a drink or two, which I end up chugging before sprinting to the gate. I’m consistently the asshole with the window seat who is last to board, so everyone has to unbuckle so I can get to my seat. Not only that, but they also have to get up mid-flight when I have to pee from all the beer I just chugged. Haha! It’s a vicious cycle.

I enjoy flying though, because it’s time for me to plug in my headphones and catch up on emails, or get a new blog post up. I’m sure my fellow neighbors hate me as I refuse to get rid of my acrylic nails that “click clack” on the keyboard for the duration of the flight. I’m sure my poor travel habits will evolve over time, however at least I’m not the person who takes off his or her socks to “get comfortable” for the flight. Ew, no.