I was in the third row on the left side of a Southwest flight from Houston to Jacksonville wearing a pink tank top.
My shirt choice was one of the many decisions I was questioning on a day that was so drastically out of character for me.
I was grateful when I noticed that it was a single-seat row so I didn’t have to run the risk of a seat-mate wanting to exchange pleasantries about what was taking us to the east coast.
I hadn’t convinced myself yet that it was the right call to even be on the flight… so I’m not sure I would have been ready to explain it to a stranger.
I spent most of the flight with my forehead pressed up against the window looking mindlessly out at the clouds; every so often banging my head against it to try to knock my “why are you doing this?” fears out of my mind.
A couple of times I glanced at my boarding pass that cost me $172 and wondered how much I’d have to pay if I needed to get a flight home sooner.
Because what if this was all a huge mistake? Continue reading