whoa, anxiety

Why am I so nervous that I'm going to miss my flight tomorr...er, this morning? I'm at the point where I can't sleep because I'm afraid I won't wake up. And if I do wake up, I'm afraid my roommate won't, and then I'll have to drive myself and pay out the ass to park at the airport. And then I'm afraid, that, since both my flights are short ones (to Las Vegas and then to San Diego), I'll have to gate check my horn and something terrible will happen to it. I'd leave it here- but ten days is too long to go without practicing, especially on my new, improved diet of not being a slacker and having grad school ambition. Taking my horn also means that my mandolin will, once again, have to stay at home. I miss it! Having something that musically I'm allowed to suck at just makes playing my trombone feel so much better. Also, bluegrass! It's awesome!

I only get this way about flying when traveling is especially important to my mental and/or emotional health- I have to get out of Texas. I have to see Mikey C and Nick and Tara and Megan. I simply must be driven downtown and gotten drunk this weekend (I'm not driving! I refuse!). It is imperative that I go to the beach and rejuvinate my tired spirits. I must just go absolutely wild about italics.

And here I thought that beer would make me sleepy. I am sleepy, but still wired.

Okay, I'm off to run around in circles and then hit the wall at top speed. I'll see you on the flip side, on the left coast.