I'm known for two things, being fit and being an idiot. The meathead archetype has never been more self-evident than the day I left for London. My entire condo is listed on Airbnb for the next month and I am hoping to at least cover my rent while I am gone. The week I leave is booked immediately providing me with marginal assurance that I won't be returning to Canada with a declaration for bankruptcy..
After successfully procrastinating my way through 25 years of life I really don't see much reason to change. With only one day left until my departure I felt the adequate amount of stress build up and propel me to point of preparation. After purchasing a bag, returning it for a new one, and repeating that process a second time I was finally back home and ready to begin. Three hours left to pack, clean my place, and get to the airport. In my frantic search for some of the magic powder that kept my last Airbnb guests up all night it occurs to me that I don't even know what terminal I am flying out of. Stress and adrenaline at their physical capacity I fumble through my phone to find my tickets.
Whether I'm so smart that my brain subconsciously prepares me for success or so dumb that I can't even remember a date of this momentous occasion does not matter because the results are the same. My flight is not until tomorrow! I have never been so relieved to be such a moron. For the first time in my life I have time to relax before a major a event.. and no place to relax at.