A Day in the Daniel Life: Trip to DC

My sister, brother-in-law and my little monkey nephew are moving to Poland for two years. So I am taking a trip to visit them in Virginia one last time before they move away to a place I am still not sure I can find on a map. They are moving to Krakow. The only way I can remember the name of the city they where they are moving is it sounds like “crack house”. Sorry sis, it is just how my brain works. I promise not to tell people you are moving to a crack house.

I started my trip saying goodbye to my boys and the dogs, which is always hard. I told Mason “Mommy is going to fly on an airplane.” “Wow, an airplane! Can I have a fruit snack mommy?” Clearly, he is devastated that I am leaving.

Mike worries of course. He’s a worrier. Especially when it comes to flying. So I didn’t tell him that my first flight was a “puddle jumper” plane. I don’t mind flying, but that tiny plane made my armpits sweat a little, even with my extra application of Degree this morning. Even scarier than the plane was my arrival to DFW airport. I got off the plane and headed for the first bathroom I could find. I had to pee like a racehorse. (I love that phrase, even though I have no idea what it means. Do racehorses have to pee more frequently or more vigorously than regular horses? If someone knows the answer to that, please let me know. In the meantime I will continue to use it as if I know what I am talking about.)

After relieving my pea size bladder I went to look for a monitor to find my next flight. I found an information booth and asked the nice lady working there instead. She instructed me to walk to the Skyline and board the train.

What?

I’m at an airport right?

There are trains?

Clearly I don’t travel much.

So I found the train got on and immediately thought of the Seinfeld episode where Elaine gets stuck on a train and starts to have a panic attack. Then I noticed there is no driver on this train and I started to have a panic attack. I started picturing a Speed/Unstoppable movie plot where the train is out of control. I looked around and there was no Keanu or Denzel to be found. And once again my armpits started sweating. Luckily, it was a short ride. I got off and headed to my gate. I got to what I thought was my gate, but I couldn’t remember if she told me C20 or C30. C20 said New York so I knew it was wrong. I thought the walk to C30 would be a short one, but I was wrong. It was a long walk and I wore the wrong walking shoes. I wore shoes that were easy to take off in security, but still hid my toenails since I refuse to pay for a pedicure but never actually take the time to paint my toenails. Point being- they were uncomfortable. But I walked, and walked. I’m pretty sure I walked past Starbucks twice. Not sure if it was the same one or if there is really a need for two Starbucks in one terminal. But I finally found my gate and the sweat glands in my armpits were finally able to relax.

During my next 3-hour flight I had the pleasure of sitting next to an old gentleman named Jerry. Jerry was very friendly. The only bad thing was that Jerry couldn’t hear very well. He introduced himself and I told him my name was Andrea. He called me Angela for the rest of the flight and I didn’t have the heart to correct him. I found myself having to repeat myself often in a yelling voice so Jerry could hear me. I’m pretty sure I pissed of the guy in front of me, but I didn’t care. He kept giving me the over the shoulder stink eye. So I spit in his hair. Just kidding, but I thought about it.

Here was my view from the plane...