I always wanted to be the kind of person who enjoys flying. Once upon a time, I had a very mild sense of superiority at the ability to enjoy a flight. No longer. The pieces fit together too well and I must admit to my mild shame that I am coming to hate flying.
While waiting in a standing-room only holding area in Lagos while every passenger on a very full flight to Houston was being frisked again before we could board the plane, it all fell into place:
- The way I can't sleep the night before
- The way my "stomach" is angry from the time I reach my first gate until I get off the last plane
- The way every layover with kids in tow sends me over the top in stress
- The way very few things in Nigeria could upset my equilibrium, but just the thought of trying to make it through US customs and security to catch a 1 hour layover triggered my fight-or-flight mechanisms WEEKS in advance
- My growing sense that TSA is all things evil and sadistic