Where did this doubt come from?

My flight is in two hours, I touch down at almost mid night. I feel off.

I’m not sure how I’d leave the airport. I tried renting a car that’d be dropped off at the airport but the request got declined.

Uber doesn’t come to this airport. The bus stops running thirty minutes 
before my arrival and a cab might as well cost the price of a plane ticket.

I booked a room for tonight, check out time is at 11 AM tomorrow 
but chances are I might end up sleeping at the airport. And would get to the hotel right before check out time, at least I’d get to shower.

It’s been six weeks since my last trip just enough time for me to sink 
back into normality.

Normality makes you want all your ducks in a row. Some people call this common sense, I think of it as rigidity. Which is why I love traveling.

The normality you get to know while on the road is no where similar to the normalcy of turning on your car, going from point A to point B, driving around familiar places.

The normality while on the road is not the same as the normalcy of adjusting your home thermostat.

The issue with normality is it makes people live in strings of knowing what comes next. Spontaneity choked to its death. Imagine traveling was like watching a movie for the first time, you do not know what comes next. Normal life is like watching a movie you’ve already seen, you know exactly what comes next because you’ve been planning it all week.

When you’re on the road, there are no guarantees. 
From the minute you step off the plane/boat/car, it’s all adventure.

You don’t know what part of your chapter is about to be written.
You don’t know how comfortable you’d be.
You don’t know if you packed enough condoms.
All you know is you are getting on that road and the road would favor you.

The unpredictability of being on the road is so much gratifying than the normality of everyday life.

In the past six weeks that I’ve been home, I’ve been sucked back into living as a zombie. No offense to people who don’t travel.

Wake up now, go punch in here. Routine. Life as you’ve always known it.

Nervous when I can’t see the next step. Everything has to be planned out and timed. I leave now, I get there at X. I dress how, I impress she.

Doing things in a regular motion doesn’t teach you anything. 
The regular time table life is detrimental to the mental faculty.

Normality makes you forget how daring you can be. 
Nothing really challenge your senses, it’s almost like running on automation. Same events, same response.

I spent most of today in panic. Trying to perfect the trip. I’m not one to panic.
Forgetting that simply being on the road, open to any and everything legal, 
is a perfection in itself. The inability to accurately plan successfully is the reason I love traveling.

I’m not naive, at least I try not to be. I know it’s important to finalize a place 
to stay before arriving at the destination and I understand its important 
to know how you’d get around town once you arrive. If you dwell so much on the worry, your mind would find a million more things to worry about, successfully sucking out the venture from the adventure.

I choose not to worry about all the experiences to be had before actually experiencing them. I choose not to worry about trying to write every aspect 
of the experience I want to happen.

Traveling tosses you into an equation where the only form of survival 
is using your life skills.

Being able to ask that stranger for change to get on the bus. 
Having the confidence that you might not know what comes next, 
but you know who would make the most of it.
Having the assurance that no matter the circumstance, 
you believe in yourself.

You don’t get your confidence built by living a predictable day to day life, 
you also cannot bring that normality level of predictability on the road.

Either by teaching you life lessons through unfortunate occurrences 
or by bringing incredible adventure many cubicle bound would not experience, traveling no matter how short, would teach you something.

It just dawned on me that I’m deserving of this. I don’t know where the doubt came from but I know that I am deserving of this trip. 
I don’t have to control everything. I don’t have to plan it to a T. 
There’s a story about to happen. I will board this plane and I will have the most amazing time of my life, thus far.

Orlando, en route.

I ended up missing my flight.

With Love,

Famous Steve.