and that's what happens when you buy the absolute cheapest tickets.
I woke up this morning and didn't want to go to New Orleans. This isn't the first time I've felt this feeling - my breath tight in my chest as my mind races around in panic, an anxious clinging to my pillow, heart beating painfully fast as I struggle try to find a way out - it came to me the morning before Mexico, the day I arrived in Santa Cruz, not even a full day into Australia. I roll around for a few minutes halfway between sleep and wake, distress and security, until I make the decision towards the latter and swing my feet onto the carpet.
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