I found my passport.
One of those things where I "put it someplace safe" then I couldn't find it...
I had checked my safe (that would be the "safe" place, wouldn't it?), jewelery box, desk drawers, various organizers and storage bins, etc...
and come to find out I must have only INTENDED to put it someplace safe.
Where did I find it?
Midway through a bin of clothes intended to go to the goodwill. WTF was it doing in there?
I was really starting to sweat since I leave for Ireland in only 16 days and how would I be able to go if I couldnt find my passport? Call in sick to work tomorrow and drive down to the passport center in San Francisco to see about getting a rush replacement? That actually didn't sound like to bad of an idea to be honest considering half my coworkers are out of the office this week so its been CRAZY CRAZY CRAZY.
But, crisis averted. The passport has been found. I can now prove my country of origin... and go to work tomorrow. yay.
In addition to being excited about how close my trip is, I'm also starting to get a little... scared.
Not "maybe I shouldn't be doing this" scared, but "oh my god I'm going to be in a completely different country, on a completely different continent" scared. There is NOTHING that could stop me from going. I've been dreaming of this trip for years and I think that may factor in to my nervousness. Something I've been dreaming of for so long is finally coming into fruition and its a bit surreal... almost like I don't believe its actually going to happen. I just can't believe that I'm actually going to be seeing the world!
One thing that I'm not looking forward to... the 10-1/2 hour flight. I don't mind flying, what I do mind is landing. I hate it. I can trace back the origin of this slight anxiety to the first flight I ever took by myself. I was 16 and was going to visit my father in Boston for the summer, and flying into Boston the plane approached the runway from the harbor side. Well, this one runway starts at the shore of the harbor. Correction... theres the harbor, an area of big jagged scary looking rocks, then the runway. When the plane was coming in for the landing, I was sitting in a window seat and was absolutely positive that we were going to crash into those rocks. I know that it was due to the perspective, the close proximity and the downward angle of the plane but I was a 16 year old drama queen. I WAS GOING TO DIE A VIRGIN.
Anyways... 10-1/2 hours in a plane. That means 10-1/2 hours without a cigarette. HOLY CRAP what am I going to do?
Any smokers with tips on how to tolerate that long of a flight without a cigarette? I'm thinking of going in to my Drs this next week to see about getting a prescription for Ambien or something like that to knock my butt out on the flights there and back and to possibly help with the jetlag once I get home.
Another general question...
prescription sleep aid, or just Tylenol PM?