“I AM FREAKING THE FUCK OUT!”
“I know, baby,” My Boyfriend said as he reached over from the driver’s seat and squeezed my knee. “But it’s okay. You’re okay.”
“I feel sketchy!” I cried, as I doubled over and attempted to take in huge gulps of air.
“You’re okay. Just lay the seat back and try to relax.”
It was the last day of my Christmas visit and we were on the way to SFO from our hometown to drop me off for my flight back to NYC. As we’ve all seen, I am not a good flyer under the best of circumstances but today with the added exhaustion, anxiety and nausea, I was not doing well. At all. I sat up and shielded my eyes as I looked out the window. Sausalito whizzed by, illuminated by the too-bright morning sunlight.
I laid the seat back and closed my eyes tightly. Then I whimpered, “I don’t understand why this is happening.”
“Well, we went big on Friday at Hometown Holiday Drinks,” My Boyfriend was saying. “And then yesterday at Lana’s brunch, you girls were hitting the champagne pretty hard.”
“I know, but I drank plenty of water last night and we went to bed early,” I said. “I should be okay.”
“Well, we haven’t had a lot of downtime overall,” he pointed out.
I opened my eyes and sniveled, “I kind of over-scheduled us, didn’t I?”
He smiled and reached to the backseat. “Here. Take my jacket and use it as a pillow. Try to get some rest.”
I took the jacket and folded it beneath my head. “I don’t feel well.” I looked up at him.
He looked down at me in pity. “Baby, if you’re not feeling better by the time we hit the bridge, I think we should change your flight to tomorrow.”
“But we’re trying to save money for visits!” I insisted.
“I know. But it’s only money. And it’s breaking my heart to see you like this.”
“I think I’m going to throw up,” I muttered.
“I think you’ve hit the wall,” he said.
“I think you’re right,” I replied.
Then I turned over and pulled the jacket over my head.