By oncptime
Once in a blue moon, I’ll become a planner. Without notice, my attention to prepatory detail will skyrocket. I’ll memorize dates, addresses, routes of travel, alternate routes of travel, weather plans—you name it. I glide through my planned journeys with a Gabby Douglas-like deftness. That said, the moon is rarely blue and it’s even rarer still that I actually slip into planer-mode. More often than naught, I tend to just…go with the flow.
“Buy your plane ticket a few months in advance!” My study abroad advisor warned. I put it off until about a month before I was to show up in Florence. “Be sure to learn a few key Italian phrases before you go!” My friends suggested. I snapped a few photos from my traveller’s companion as I disembarked from my plane in Rome. “Have a plan!” My mentor urged me. I didn’t. Not really.
You see I tend to err on the side of “pfft, it’ll be fine!” because generally speaking, it’s always fine. Trekking through New York to Jersey to get to Newark International was a joy. I met/fell in love with/considered proposing to a gorgeous customs officer during breezed through my layover in Montreal. Sure, I’d bought my tickets and glanced at them in passing a few weeks before I set out to travel. But I definitely hadn’t poured over and memorized them the way a true planner would have. “This,” I thought. “Is going to be a piece of cake.” And it was.
Until I got to Rome.
