When I was in high school I flew by myself for the first time. I was going to visit my grandma and I had to make a few connecting flights. Because I was oh-so-responsible I stayed up far too late the night before and, as I sat in the terminal the next day, an announcement came on about a change in gates while I was fast asleep. I ended up missing my connecting flight and went into the bathroom to shed some tears. I remember feeling like such a small child, unable to even fly successfully by myself.
Eventually I got there, but I drank all kinds of coffee to prevent the same mistake on my return trip. I was so worried about getting myself from Point A to Point B that I couldn't think of anything else.
Four or five years later, when I got married, I was crippled by fear...
