If today was a 90s tshirt it would read- FRONT: Just another Monday... BACK: Not! Headed to Cabo!

This morning I shot straight up in bed thirty minutes before my alarm with that cold sweat, high anxiety thought, "oh my God, Kevin!" I hadn't even left for my trip yet and I was already thinking about things I had forgotten. Even though at only 2:30 a.m. I was way ahead of schedule, I thought it best I just get up and get going anyway. I'm not exactly fond of "cutting it close" when it comes to airport travel. "Cutting it close" to me is anytime under two hours. I seem to arrive earlier and earlier for my flights with each trip I take. I get so anxiety ridden with the thought of long check-in lines and long security lines and incompetent TSA staff I can barely keep myself from just sleeping at the airport the night before an early flight. Better to be safe than sodomized by the TSA.

In my defense, my neurotic early tendencies are simply the result of too many missed flights as a kid a'la Wolfe family vacations thanks to my "I need to strip the wallpaper and tear up the carpet and repaint the outside of the house and bake a six layer lasagna before we leave for every vacation-mom." I have far too many memories of literally running through the airport with my entire family trying to make a flight. And even though Run, Run, Rudolph was the soundtrack to these festive sprints and we had actually remembered to bring Kevin along on this trip, it was still always very stressful, never the less. 

Thus the reason I sit at the airport at 4:10 a.m., a little over two hours before my flight. But whatever, I like to arrive early. It gives me sufficient time to groan and huff in the check-in line, and then bitch about choosing the wrong security line and roll my eyes at the TSAssholes when they tell me to remove my scarf and shoes. I always limp through the security check like my precious bare feet have never touched something so filthy, little do they know I once had a case of planters worts so bad my feet probably should have been amputated. Ha! Jokes on you, airport floor and TSA. I'm so obviously kidding! I didn't have worts... Only gross poor kids in the second grade have worts. They're the same ones who have lice. 

So yeah. Only one quick flight to Denver and then a longer flight to Mexico stands between me and the sandy beaches of Cabo. I'm pretty excited to drink a Corona, eat some beans, have a high caloric mixed drink by the pool, buy some chicklits from the tiny brown hands of a child slave, maybe some fine silver, a painted lizard-trinket, burn my white winter skin, and repeat every day for the next seven days. If you're not jealous, you should be. I'm pretty fun on vacations. Alright, it's almost time to board and I need to grab a water because I think I can feel my stomach bleeding again.  But it's totally okay, the water pills for sure make me feel skinnier already. 

Xoxo
Natalie Holloway