I have an easy day today. I did my pitch for funding yesterday (well actually my colleague did it but I sat there looking on).
Today I can skip the morning meeting and indeed have planned to so I can get a lunchtime - 12.30 - flight home.
So all I have to do today is get myself home. Once I get to Edinburgh I have to get myself across the Forth Rail Bridge because the Road Bridge is closed, but that should be ok.
Yesterday I travelled here and it was surprisingly easy. My flight landed at 9.40am and by 10.30am I was in my hotel room (and yes I could check in that early).
Which means I have nothing to worry about, since it's a quick trip to the airport and that was using public transport - if I was running late I could get a taxi right there.
So I am having a bath before getting up, saying goodbye to my colleagues not skipping the morning, check out, and go.
I woke up with a slight headache but the bath is warm and I am listening to an audio book - "Agent to the Stars" by John Scalzi, read by Wil Wheaton. It is very relaxing and the headache is gone or at least I'm not noticing it (is that the same thing with something like a headache?)
I look at my watch. It's about 8.45. Bang. Anxiety hits me like a runaway train. I know that's not a good simile but I'm too anxious to think about a better one.
Everything is a worry now. Finding my pyjamas, getting everything packed including my teddy bear. Have I put something sharp in bag by mistake? And is it really ok that at airside shop I bought my headphones at yesterday they had a pair of sharp scissors to open it, which could presumably be stolen by somebody and taken on a flight? Should I even mention that in a blog post like this? Can I get anxious about anything at all? Why yes I can.
It makes no sense. It is utterly ludicrous, in my ever so humble opinion. But I guess that is the point of anxiety as an illness, as opposed to the everyday meaning of anxiety about things like global warming.
It's now an hour later and I am sitting at the hotel writing this. I'll post this and then get myself on the way to the airport. I know it will be easy.
Why does something so easy feel so incredibly hard?