This static electricity problem has become A SITUATION. What I wanted to blame on Toronto, and then on Ottawa and now on Atlanta, I can’t really, as it seems to be a ME problem. I seriously look like I have been on 3-2-1 Contact and was involved in some experiment. Only with slightly less stone-wash on my jeans.

You know. THIS.

I suppose it could be worse. I could still smell like Middle Eastern food. Or like airplane.

It has been quite the weekend, I tell you.

Yesterday morning, of course, was the most interesting, probably because it started early.

Or late, depending on how you look at things.

I’m not really a good traveler at the best of times.

So, this weekend of a family road trip to Ottawa, chased by a singular two-leg trip to Atlanta for my grandmother’s funeral was enough to gives me a serious case of the panics. So, I do what I normally do in situations of particular panic—I pop Xanax and Tic Tacs and I sing the lyrics to We Didn’t Start The Fire in my head. Judge if you must but at the end of the day, it’s how I do.

Before most trips, I do everything in power to get out of going.

It’s true.

“Maybe we should cancel.”

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

“Maybe my work needs me too much.”

“Maybe the kids will get sick.”

“Maybe *I* will get sick.”

It’s bad news, really. Especially when trips involve family funerals and I know that canceling is not in the cards.

It almost happened organically actually, without any manipulation or black magic on my part. Halfway to Ottawa, my husband turns to me and says, “Did you pack your passport?”

“Don’t be silly, husband. Why on earth would I need a passport to go to Ottawa?”

“Well, wife. You are getting on an airplane early Sunday morning. Remember?”

And that was when we pulled over at the side of the highway, and a very perturbed husband walked to the back of the van to make sure I did, indeed, have a passport in my possession.

“Well, I feel dumb now.”

“Trust me, wife. You would feel A HELL OF A LOT MORE DUMB had I not found the passport back there.”

Indeed. 

So, the flight was happening.

So, I plugged my nose and was on my way.

Because what choice did I have, really?

And I’ll spend today looking around for a dryer sheet.

So I don’t look like I have been electrocuted.

Or something.