✈️ Travel Journal – Day One
Where the wind met the terminal gate and my thoughts ran wild.”
📅 Date:
July 9, 2025
📍 Location:
Chicago O’Hare Airport – Terminal 1, Gate C16 (not to be confused with the wrong gate C10, I sat at for three hours)
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🌦 Weather & Scenery:
Today was bright, hazy, and buzzing with that special brand of airport static: a low-grade hum of shoe scuffs, rolling luggage wheels, and announcements that are somehow both garbled and too loud. Chicago’s summer haze settled into the giant terminals like a warm breath, but inside? Fluorescent lights, fast food smells, and scattered pockets of chaos. At one point I was seated in the wrong gate for three hours (thanks, Gate 16, for playing hard to get). When I finally found the right one, I was greeted by an entire religious youth group—mid-trip energy and all. Also, fun twist: our plane isn’t at the gate. Nope. It’s being taxied from Terminal 5 to us at Terminal 1. Classic O’Hare plotline.
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✍️ What I Did Today:
Today has been… a day. I started in El Paso, flew to Chicago, and landed in the ever-mysterious world of Terminal 1. I ate a chicken panini and washed it down with a cherry Coke (because caffeine and comfort carbs are the traveler’s version of armor). I watched a little boy throw an Olympic-level tantrum over a neck pillow shaped like a triceratops, and honestly? I kind of wanted it too. I saw a teenage girl audibly bless someone for holding the bathroom door, and a security agent who looked 3 seconds away from quitting mid-shift.
But the biggest speed bump? My last name. I booked my flights before the court finalized my divorce, and my plane tickets are under my married name—but my passport and Real ID are both updated with my maiden name. That sparked a red-tape panic spiral at the gate. Thank Freya I packed the official divorce paperwork. If I hadn't, this might’ve turned into a very expensive return trip to Arizona.
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🌟 Standout Moment:
Standing in front of the gate agent, digging through my carry-on like a raccoon in search of my divorce decree, while a swarm of teens in matching “Jesus is My Co-Pilot” shirts sang “Oceans” behind me. Add to that the awkward shuffle of realizing I’d been camped at the wrong gate for three solid hours, and the cherry on top? Our plane was nowhere in sight. Turns out it’s playing musical chairs with gates, being taxied from Terminal 5 like a diva running late to a concert. This entire day feels like it was directed by Taika Waititi.
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🎵 Song of the Day:
“Espresso Macchiato” – Tommy Cash
Why it fits:
Because I am running on what could generously be called a nap. I didn’t sleep properly on the plane, I’m vibrating from caffeine and adrenaline, and my inner monologue sounds like glitchy EDM. This song captures the absurd, overstimulated mood of the day: a little chaotic, a little punchy, and powered by espresso and sarcasm.
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🗣️ Quote / Saying of the Day:
"It doesn’t matter how well you pack—you will always forget something. Like peace, quiet, and the gummy worms."
Also, unexpected wisdom: Always pack the damn paperwork. Bureaucracy doesn’t care about vibes.
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🔥 Daily Prompt:
What question is echoing in my mind today?
“Are you a nurse?”
Your reflection:
This gets asked so often when I wear scrubs while traveling. Nope. Not a nurse—I’m a certified pharmacy technician. Scrubs are just comfy, they have actual functional pockets, and they breathe better than jeans when you’re hustling through terminals. But beneath that question is a bigger one I’m asking myself this trip:
Who am I, now?
I’m five years post-cancer. Newly divorced. Still figuring out what my life looks like now that the dust has settled and the fear is less immediate but still lingering. This trip isn’t about escape—it’s about rediscovery. Rebuilding. Reclaiming a version of me that I haven’t had space to listen to in a long time.
Even if that version forgets her gummy worms.
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❤️ Gratitude / Silver Linings:
My mom. For watching my daughters and my cat. For giving me the time and space to do something wildly healing and necessary. For holding things down at home so I can fall apart or pull it together out here on the road.
Also grateful to past-me for packing the divorce papers and double-checking my ID, because present-me almost had a meltdown in front of a very confused gate agent.
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🐉 Free Thoughts & Wandering Mind:
Why are youth groups so loud? Do they feed them espresso or just pure sugar before boarding? I swear one of them tried to have a rap battle with a ukulele guy at the gate next door.
Also, it’s weird how much emotional energy travel takes. You think you’re ready, you think you’re excited, but then the wave of everything you’ve been holding back hits you somewhere between TSA and Gate 16.
And all you want is gummy worms. That you packed. In your second checked bag. Rookie mistake.
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🏕 Closing Note:
Still in the U.S., but I’ve already survived name drama, gate confusion, teen choirs, plane musical chairs, and one existential espresso crash. If this is Day One… bring it on.
