Confession time: I worry a lot. About everything.
That’s probably an understatement. I worry a TON. It’s my favorite activity, other than sleeping, or eating. It’s exhausting and I can’t help it and I don’t even notice I do it, most of the time.
I went to Boston this weekend and since I don’t have a car (hint hint, mom & dad…25th b-day present!) I took a bus. That’s right. A BUS. It was my first bus ride EVER, which is pretty impressive since apparently the Northeast Corridor is primo bus-traveling territory.
It wasn’t the dreaded Chinatown bus that I took, but rather the very nice and clean and harmless Megabus. Nevertheless, my worry over getting myself on said bus kicked in approximately 6 days before I even had to leave. Example phone conversation with H, on Monday (bus departure time: Friday, 4:50pm).
Me: But I don’t know where it departs.
H: so look at the website. It will tell you.
Me: BUT I don’t know what time I should leave my office or how early I have to get there or what I have to do once I get there or if I have to print my ticket or an electronic ticket is okay.
H: …
Me: AND WHAT IF I CAN”T FIND THE BUS AND IT LEAVES WITHOUT ME THEN WHAT.
H: (can’t even get a word in edgewise)
Me: AND IT”S DOUBLE-DECKER, YOU KNOW. WHAT IF IT CRASHES AND I GET CRUSHED OR SOME CRAZY PERSON IS ON THERE WITH ME AND STARTS CUTTING OFF PEOPLE”S HEADS LIKE HOW THAT HAPPENED A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO. REMEMBER THAT?!?!
I won’t go on, cause I think you get the point. I didn’t even get any comfort from my stupid boyfriend. All I got was an “are you serious right now?” and a prompt adios. He’s experienced my worrying before…he knows there’s nothing he can do to stop it, and it probably doesn’t matter what he says anyway. I’ll still worry.
So Friday rolled around, and by this point my worry had climbed up to about an 11 on a scale of 1-10. It didn’t help that a quick last-minute internet search brought up frightening reviews and horror stories having to do with no A/C, an incompetent driver, a broken-down bus, and pee smells. It was official: my worry had turned into anxiety.
Anxiety is a fun word that I’ve started to throw around with abandon lately. Don’t know what to make for my office summer picnic? ANXIETY. Sad that H travels and I am left home alone? ANXIETY. Hear a scary noise in the middle of the night? ANXIETY. ANXIETY. ANXIETY.
It’s awesome. H, I think, especially enjoys that I’ve gained a new interest in psychiatric self-diagnosis (thank you, WebMD!).
Anyway: the bus. I arrive with plenty of time to spare. Time enough, in fact, to make a last-minute Starbucks trip (why I thought caffeine would help my mindset at that point I have no idea. Hello, jittery!). Momentarily distracted by my iced chai-tea latte, I start wandering around the vicinity of Penn Station. And suddenly I realize that the departure point, which I so meticulously noted on a post-it, is sitting not in my bag, but back on my desk, 35 minutes downtown.
PANIC.ANXIETY.HELP I’M LOST.
Disclaimer: Penn station is where every single bus on the face of the planet departs. It is a bus orgy. There are buses on every corner.
As my anxiety-hives start to appear and my heart stats to pound I arbitrarily pick a corner and a bus that looks promising. I linger near it, trying to look casual. It is now 4:35. I see no sign for Megabus, no lines, no nothing. I am terrified.
Suddenly by God’s grace I spy a woman reading a piece of paper that has the Megabus logo emblazoned on the top. It takes all my willpower not to hug her. Instead, I surreptitiously run-walk after her and follow this stranger approximately 3 blocks away to where I am actually supposed to be. Joy! The giant two-decker mega bus is sitting waiting for me….
And 100,000 other people.
Here’s the thing. Megabus departs not IN Penn Station, but on a random sidewalk adjacent to Penn Station. There are buses going to not only Boston, but to Philly, to DC, to Baltimore…pretty much every city on the East Coast. There is no organization to speak of. A destination is announced and there is a mad rush towards the bus door. Luggage flying. Sweat-droplets dropping. Children crying. Oh, and it was 800 degrees out.
Needless to say my anxiety didn’t dissipate, but instead grew. After checking with some conveniently non-English speaking fellow passengers I found myself at the very tail end of an extremely ridiculously long line for the bus to Boston (maybe. I wasn’t positive. It was an educated guess). My thought process went something like this as I made my way down to the end:
Oh, this isn’t so bad…wait…it keeps going…wait…it’s still not at the end…WAIT OMG HOW AM I GOING TO GET ON THIS BUS I’LL BE STRANDED HERE FOREVER AND I’LL NEVER GET THERE AND MY WEEKEND IS RUINED AND I HATE MEGABUS AND STARBUCKS AND TRAVELING IN GENERAL.
I am not exaggerating. Thoughts of this nature actually go through my head. And apparently, it’s not normal. Who knew.
Anyway to cut this story short (because who wants to read about my psychotic bus worries) I made it on the bus, it didn’t crash, and I didn’t get brutally murdered by a fellow passenger. It also didn’t smell like pee. I made it Boston and had a great weekend with my dear sister. The end.
…until July 4th rolls around. And I brave the bus again.
Now who wants to write me a prescription for some Prozac?
Mare, I don’t care what WebMD says, it may not be normal but it’s more common than you think. And…my sweet, dear neice, WAIT TILL YOU HAVE CHILDREN! Not to worry, though, 99.9% of the things you worry about will never happen. Now, what about that extra 0.1% ??!!!!!!!!!!!
PS I have some Prozac connections…I’ll share
MB – A piece of advice: don’t travel to India… or Thailand… or Latin America… (you get the point, you won’t do well in developing countries). If Prozac is not available, I find a good 10 shots of Tequila takes the edge off. Oh, the stories I could share! Good luck!
MB….I too share your “I’m going to worry about EVERHTHING attitude….I traveled to Mass General in Boston myself this past weekend and had a GPS…which I talked to the entire ride…no not left …I know I should go right!!! At one point I had a visual of the entire WORLD not just the Mass Pike…how did I do that….God knows!!! Kristie on my “hotline” says…Mom just zoom in and keep zooming in….and finally the Mass Pike appeared..who knew. I HATE driving in Boston…although John says…it’s soooo easy…sure if you don’t get lost and know the city. Keep up the worries kiddo…I see it as part of my weight loss program!!!…..Keep up the blogs too..I look forward to them…
I am with you. When I travel – by plane not bus – I like to get there about 2 hours early. I have this inherent fear of being late and missing my plane. I totally agree with the Prozac but prefer Barb’s suggestions of Tequila or some other alcoholic beverage – it would work wonders.