I'll be honest (and I try to always be honest, but perhaps obfuscate some of the real details because it's easier and stuff0.
I am totally freaked out, and I've been fretting a moderate amount for the last 4 or 5 days.
Why you may ask? Moving far away, farther from family and away from a job I like lots? To a new place where we know nobody?
Nope. Moving doesn't phase me anymore. We scoped out housing this weekend and found a really great place and a pretty awesome place, so we are set.
I am panicked about flying on Saturday.
I mean, after all this time, having flown a number of times to a number of places, I shouldn't be freaked out. It's just a faster way to get from here to there and about as interesting as a bus ride, right?
I've been laying out my trip, mapping out airports, figuring alternate routes, how am I getting to the airport and back, all that jazz.
Have I planned what I'm packing? No.
Have I figured out how I get from the airport to wherever I'm going once I'm there? No.
Have I called to see about food during the week and if I can have a fridge since I need to cook my own food? Of course not.
I hate flying, and I have to do it twice in the next 2 weeks for a total of 4 flights.
Knowing it's irrational doesn't actually help me one bit. or it helps that I know it's irrational, in that I know I will get through it and be fine. But I am certainly no less scared despite knowing that I'm much safer on a plane than on the highway (especially since this would take me about 35 hours to drive, which is too long I think).
I'll just keep taking deep breaths and knowing that it will be all right. Eventually. And if it isn't all right, it will be over eventually.