if you have a poetโs mindset, travel is a no-lose scenario. if you, like me, have a penchant for arriving ludicrously early, you enjoy whiling away your meaningless hours without an ounce of tension in your body, secure in knowing if a meteor fell out of the sky and split open the highway on your drive, you would still not have to race through security. when you donโt value your own time, even on your worst day, you will have an hour to spare finding the best value meal in the airport, dragging your feet to and from bathrooms, filling your bottles. finding the emptiest gate and charging every device on the gluttony of outlets before you.
of course, i can understand those who fly by the seat of their pants, reliant on their own good fortune and acts of god to usher them safely to their destination. when you dare to take the advice of your peers and chance what you would perceive as a risky layover, you have to admit the euphoria from every piece landing in place exactly as you planned it without deviation. there is only one high so pure as making a lucky connection, and that is when you take their advice and you MISS your connection. when your travel is disastrously derailedโฆ isnโt there still the twisted ecstasy of victimhood? an autoschadenfreude that takes pleasure in oneโs own martyrdom if only to say โi told you so,โ and to feel justified in continuing to wake up at 5am for your midday flights