I wrote this while waiting for my flight to SeaTac the other night. I decided it was time to record the reoccurring thoughts I have every time I fly. Oddly enough, a few of them have to do with bathrooms. Not sure what that means.

Thought #1: 

 As long as we’re being honest with ourselves, are auto-flushes really doing anyone any favors? It’s amazing the number of times this courteous toilet flushes before my bum actually made contact with the porcelain throne. Thanks, for the anxiety attack, Jon. It’s like the bathroom is deliberately trying to ruin my day.

I attempt to use the seat-cover in airports (rarity in Sarah’s life), and it’s a literal race to squat before the dang toilet takes the initiative to flush for me. I’m all, “Gimme a SECOND.” There’s nothing that boils my blood more than the premature toilet flush.  The noise, the splash. All of it.

In fact, I hate auto-flushes so much, I’d be willing to endure one swirly if I had the guarantee of never having to encounter another auto-flush again.

Thought #2:

Who else’s favorite thing is going to the Lou with a carry-on suitcase? I swear the stalls are smaller in airports. My favorite is when they decide to make the doors swing inwards, so getting from inside the stall with a suitcase to the other side to wash your hands is a bigger challenge than trying to figure out Minesweeper without any instruction.

Thought #3:

 Every time I flush the toilet on the airplane I feel like I’m being punished. I brace myself, but it’s like when you hear the thumping drums and screeching violins in a horror movie building the scene, and you know the bad guy is going to pop out of no where, but there isn’t any possible way you can prepare yourself enough. In fact, the anticipation makes it ten times worse.

Airplane flushes are my second biggest fear. 1. Clowns.

Thought #4:

No really, the speaker needs to be louder in airport terminals. Airport speakers are capable more than anything to cause you to forget any train of thought.

“Right, so then we were walking hand-in-hand, when all the sudden he abruptly stops, gets down on one knee, is telling me how much he loves me, and I’m freaking ou—“

“FLIGHT #5772 DEPARTURE TO SAN FRANSISCO IS NOW BOARDING SECTIONS A & B…”

“Uh…. And then….”

“FLIGHT #5772 DEPARTURE TO SAN FRANSISCO IS NOW BOARDING SECTIONS A & B…”

“So I uh…”

“FLIGHT #5772 DEPARTURE TO SAN FRANSISCO IS NOW BOARDING SECTIONS A & B…”

“…Yeah. I have no idea what I was talking about.”

You won’t be able to think about flight #5772 departure to San Francisco and Steven Holst that needs to go to the front desk about his seat change for the rest of the week.

Thought #5: 

I’m amazed at the amount of power that can go to one head by one badge.

And I know this to be true, because after my first day of work, I came home from work with an iPhone 5s, new MacBook Pro and sprinted through the doors to show my roommates the piece of plastic that scanned me in and out of the doors in the Triad Building.

So, you know, I get it. I get the power of a badge.

But what I don’t understand is when you receive such badge, and it will in one instant make you ruler of all that you see. Which happens to be Terminal B, in this case.

“What are yo—take your laptop out. Does that water bottle have one drop of liquid in there? Are you deranged?”

There are now lines where you don’t have to take off your shoes, belt, or take the laptop out of your bag. You can just walk through. It’s beautiful. I was so happy, I cried myself to sleep.

However, I can relate to the rest of the world that can’t wrap their heads around not having to take off their shoes before boarding a plane.

“LEAVE YOUR SHOES ON! HOLY @#$%^ ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US ALL?!”

Woah, OK sorry, but in this situation, I feel like you’re yelling at a dog that you have trained his entire life to not lie on the couch.

So you can imagine the dog’s confusion when you give him the privilege of lounging on the sofa. He probably thinks it’s too good to be true.

So please, badge-wearers, give us a break when we’re newbs to this newfound freedom.