Travel planning = evil.

I hate travel planning.

I love traveling—going to airports, hanging out in the terminal, flying, taking trains and subways (except the lugging-suitcases bit), going somewhere that isn't home, anticipating new sights and seeing friends or relatives again, and then having the time to relax and mentally recap on the way back—but this part, with the decisions about dates and flight times and fares and airlines and transit logistics, just kills me. I'm always nervous that I've somehow entered the wrong days in the booking form or have reversed the direction of the round-trip or that in another day I could've found a cheaper deal. Maybe, as I was just saying to michelle_nine, I'm so laid back for the physical part of traveling because all the worrying comes out beforehand. But damn, it took about eight hours over four days to settle on this flight to London, and that's after the weeks of deciding on a date range and months of considering whether to go to Copenhagen for a week or a weekend.

On the bright side, I'm going to England again in a few weeks! And, when I get the second half of the trip planned (gah), Denmark in the middle of it! Seeing catilinarian and maddy_harrigan for the first time in too long, and possibly catlily, and then kabale and lysa1 and mateo10 too!

Still, am all agitated from post-booking jitters. Time for an episode of Odyssey 5.