Warning: Teaser post, see below for explanation.
Despite my worries check in was a breeze, my bags were well under weight, and security was easy after all the flights over the last year. I was in the small terminal, so I found my gate easily and I relaxed, listening to the happy accents of my fellow passengers as we awaited our flight. After buying some water, I plugged in my phone hoping to charge it up a bit before I landed in Iceland. All of the good byes and research had drained my battery to the point of near death and I wanted to make sure I could get in touch with the car rental agency when I landed just in case they weren’t waiting for me as planned. As I listened to the musical sounds of different languages filling the terminal, I tried to take deep breaths and remind myself that I totally had this shit, I was a fucking rockstar, and would own Iceland all over the place. I meant this in a completely literal sense, because I’d decided to rent a car and drive myself around the island alone. When I decide to do something, I go big! Even if I am terrified in the process.