The Plane Pain

 I'm absolutely terrified of planes. At least for the first 45 minutes that I am on one. This is a relatively new development in my life. It started right after my buddy Zach and I took off out of the Santiago, Chile airport. I will go to my grave saying that the damn plane turned completely sideways like we were in some stupid movie. Short flights are nightmares for me. I am convinced every time I hear a noise that it means I am done for. More than once I have held hands with a stranger during a flight and more than once strangers have bought me drinks on because they are very aware of the absolute fear plastered across my face. Normally I quell the anxiety with one too many mimosas and forced nervous laughter.

Zach and I on our way to Uruguay.Struggles.

I leave Thursday.

Everything was packed, to the brim, when I realized I didn't want to bring 3/4ths of the shirts I packed. I know I can buy new clothes there for damn near nothing It's not like I am doing this forever, so I don't really need that much stuff. Do I? I guess I'm just going to have to wait and find out.