Flying by the Seat of My Pants

Remember when I was a list person? Life seemed so simple back then. Write it down, get it done, cross it off.

Well, lists and I don’t really get along, anymore. For many reasons. 1) I never really have time to write things down. 2) Even if I do make time to create a list, I have trouble finishing it, as the lists I create quickly become unmanageable collections of infinite tasks. 3) As the lists continue to grow, with no end in sight, I quickly lose control of my stress. I get anxious (how will I ever finish all of this?) and I develop feelings of worthlessness (I suck because I cannot accomplish anything). 4)…

Shit! See why lists suck so much for me?

So, a couple of months ago, I decided to abandon my lists, favoring a new philosophy, which is as follows: If it is important, it will happen. (Meaning if it is important, there is no way I won’t remember to do it.) This new philosophy does have its strengths and weaknesses. It facilitates living in the moment, a lifestyle for which I continue to strive. And it thwarts panic attacks by prohibiting me from ever seeing – on paper – all that I have to do at any given time.

However I have recently uncovered a few problems with this paperless tracking system, in that, sometimes, things really SHOULD be written down. On napkins. On post it notes. On the backs of hands. Or fuck, on a piece of steno paper that is labeled at the top, TO DO LIST.

In hindsight, if I could do it over again, I would have verified the departure time for my Thursday night flight to London sometime on Wednesday. And I would have written the verified departure time down. Both on my hand and on a piece of paper. I would have written down 7:23 PM, ideally, and not 11:23 PM, which I know I saw at some point in time on one of my 100+ United Itineraries. Yes, in hindsight, I would have abandoned the paperless tracking system in an effort to ensure I would not miss a very important flight to London.

But instead, I logged onto the United Airlines website the evening of my flight – that flight I thought left at 11:23 PM – to see if it was scheduled for an on-time departure. And at 8:18 PM on Thursday night, I confirmed that my flight – that flight I thought left at 11:23 PM – was in deed on time. On time, and already in the air, as it took off at 7:23 PM. Which, as anyone who can tell time can surely understand, is not the same as 11:23 PM.

I have never – never in my life – missed a flight. Part wise-traveler (why would anyone EVER connect through O’Hare?) and part travel-snob (why would anyone EVER connect when they can almost ALWAYS fly direct?) and part experience (status = first class security = short lines!). But Thursday, for myriad reasons, I just confused everything, and I missed my flight to London. Which means I missed my Saturday flight to Marrakech. FUCK!

While trying to maintain perspective, I realized that I DID NOT miss LEF’s wedding, as it is scheduled for Wednesday. And that despite having to rearrange my flights, I was still going to make it to Marrakech by Monday evening. So thankfully, I did not miss this wedding. And my paperless tracking system, as well as the, “If it is important, it will happen” philosophy are still in tact. The wedding is what is important, and I'm going to be there for it. Flying by the seat of my pants to get there, almost literally, but I'll get there.

Hiccups in travel behind me, I am now sitting at a café inside Heathrow Airport. I have been traveling for over twenty four hours and I am QUITE tired. But I am ready for a week of exploration. On the other side of the Atlantic Ocean for only the third time in my life. With friends from high school, college, Washington DC, and life in general. For a trip celebrating that which is truly important in life – family, and friends, and love.

It is going to be a great week. Stay tuned…