Oh. My. God. My body. It hates me.
I feel like I’ve been smashed in by a pot of gold.
I feel like I’ve been on a month long Jameson binge.
I feel, for lack of a better word, like shit. With a capital ‘s’, Shit.
It’s been ages since I’ve had a hangover and now I remember why I avoid it like the plague – because it is the absolute worst feeling ever. Aside from childbirth I hear, but That Is A Miracle Happening, people! You cannot compare the two. They’re not mutually exclusive. (good phrase, right dad?)
Apparently, I let my tolerance guard down a little. I should have said no when I said yes and I won’t be making that mistake again.
In the wee hours, I even had a mini-pass out session. Mini because I stopped it just before it happened, but felt as if it still occurred. My body passes out on occasion. It’s like a reboot. More often than not it happens around alcohol, but not always. I’ve passed out on a plane, in my bathroom, in other peoples bathrooms, heck, in the bathroom of Ed Debevics in Chicago just two weeks ago…
I ran to the bathroom, stripped, jumped into the tiny 3’x3′ shower and blasted the water freezing cold. Ten minutes like this and I felt the feeling pass. Afterwards I always feel uncharacteristically tired and very weak.
I slept a bit longer and dreaded the alarm clock that woke Chelsea and I at 6:45am. We didn’t start moving until 7:00 and by that time, we were already running behind. They say to get to the airport at least 2 hours early for international flights, right? Our flight leaves at 10am, boarding starts at 9:15.
We pack speedy fast, rouse the sleeping boys, and load into the car. No coffee, tea, breakfast. I couldn’t have handled it anyway.
Ian drives us in his sporty car to the airport. The windows are down (by request) and the cold air is refreshing and energizing (it’s the simple things in life, right mom?). He pops in a Michael Bublé CD and turns it up.
Here we are: four people, packed into a car, weaving thru the streets of Dublin with the windows down and Michael Bublé blasting.
I just wanted to recap for you because, hangover or not, it was the best exit ever.
We arrive at the Dublin Airport and get our boarding passes at the American Airlines counter. The lines are short but take longer than necessary. I waver while I stand and I’m nauseous as all get out.
We get thru the first security checkpoint. I get buzzed when I walk thru the sensor so a nice woman asks if she can “pat me down”. What are my options? Closed room strip search or in-the-open pat down? I’ll take the pat down. Unless the strip search agents are Michael Bublé and David Beckham. In that case, I hope there’s favorable dim lighting… 🙂
I don’t know how I could have caused it to buzz. I’m wearing Lululemon socks, yoga pants, a sports bra and tank top…
We hear the overhead PA say, “Passengers flying on American Airlines flight XX to Chicago, make your way to the lower level U.S. Preclearance“. We walk a bit faster, just to stand in another line. This is US Customs, it is nice to get out of the way now versus once we arrive. The time is 9:05, we board at 9:15. We get thru customs, part of which includes them showing us an aerial photograph zoomed in on our luggage after it was checked at the counter. The customs agent asks, “is this the luggage you checked earlier?” I reply in the affirmative. Holy creepy, big brother! I guess I would rather have more security than less but, yikes.
Next stop is security checkpoint número dos.. It’s 9:15. We get thru relatively quickly and find the nearest restroom (sensing a pattern here, folks? We pee a lot.)
9:20 and the gate is packed. Standing room only. They are seating individual sections and ours has been called. There’s no need to board and sit so we won’t board until the last possible minute. Nearby is a small cafe. We have leftover euros and decide to pick a few things up. A chicken sandwich, a blueberry muffin and a bottle of water. I probably would have paid €40 for that water, my body was crying out for it so terribly bad.
We board the plane and exhale a sigh of relief. We made it. What an adventure!
I love traveling and seeing the world. I love the cultures, the music, the locals, the food, the memories. I enjoy it all and feel blessed for the opportunity.
But there is nothing, absolutely nothing like the feeling of going home.
We toast one last time onboard, with oj and water.