-This is a story of triumph, success and overcoming the impossible-
I'm writing this on my phone because my laptop is under the plane. I have flight anxiety. And general anxiety, but this story is airport specific. To help manage my anxious state, I am very careful with my flights and baggage, often arrive 2-3 hours early for domestic flights, and ensure multiple times that everything I could possibly need is in specific easily accessible locations.
So, today. My flight has been booked by a lovely, well meaning client at 1020am with 45kg luggage allowance. I'm checked out at 827am and awaiting in the lobby for a newly acquainted friend to pick me up. I call him just after 9am. I believe I woke him up. I'll sitting in the lobby, watching morning rush hour drag past. My hands start sweating. My friend arrives, and we are on our way.
I get to the airport. So far so good. I leisurely change from outdoor to indoor glasses congratulating myself on not stressing out. I walking calming to bag drop area. I (being hyper organized) have already checked in on my phone, and have a screenshot of the boarding pass already open, waiting. My machine has trouble reading my phone. No worries, I walk over to the printer. I print the tag and head back to the bag drop. After loading the enormous bag the machine tells me it's over weight. A close by staff member tells me I have to move some items into another bag and check in both. Okay. No worries. I can do that. So I do. Then I need to print another bag tag she says. Okay. Sure. I try to do that. The machine accepts both bags. Great! I try to print the second tag and the machine conks out of service. I begin to sweat. I call the bag attendee over again and she tries to check the bag in. But its already checked in. And so we can't print the bag tag. She waves me over to another line. Here a stony face Maori woman looks me over. I explain, in detail the problem. She is my only hope. She asks to see the extra baggage purchased. I sweat. I fumble. This was the only thing I hadn't checked. Did I have that email? I scrolled, screened, scanned... searched. Found it. Errr.... No extra baggag- "I I fixed it" she says. I stop. "You only need to move 5kg into that bag", she points from the enormous bag to the carry on sized bag that is already bulging. "Or, you can pay $50, at the end counter" she points into airport abyss. I ask her how much time I have. "12 mintues before boarding" she replies calmly. I haven't even gone through security yet. I sweat. I do a rapid mental scan of what's in the enormous bag. "I'll do it. I'll move the weight" I declare with power. I heave the 28kg mammoth bag down and open and the smaller bags guts are thrown open. I rip through the contents, pulling liquid bottles, and wierd forgotten items from the depths of clothes and luggage contents. I am not even thinking, just acting. It's a moment of animalistic deseperastion to locate and teselate the heaviest in the smallest. Breathing heavy I pull the bag back on the scales. "Er .." She says. I look up, stressed. "You took out 8kg". I look at her blankly. Wow. I'm amazing I think. I pick up the light single bag that is now my carry on. The two checked bags float to the plane. I breeze through the security check, get bomb scanned, order and help the barista with my drink order and float calmly to be the last walking through the gate, through the tunnel, and out into the tarmac. A light, floating, victorious mission. I am amazing. I have caught my flight.
