It’s not that we dread vacations. no way! A trip, we love. It’s the planning that we’ve been hardwired deep in our lizard brains to detest. Sure, there’s the chore itself—the browser tabs of travel sites, the passwords for the Mileageplusexcaliburwhatever™ programs—but there’s something more powerful at play too. There’s the tingling terror of commitment… of foreclosing choices. Maybe fares will drop! Maybe something will come up! So we hold out, doubling down on the delusion that staying flexible is staying sensible. even when our options narrow—hotel vacancies vanish, ticket prices skyrocket, and the only seats together are in the last row— a kind of magical thinking sets in. We resolve to outsmart the problems we create. We don’t need a flight if we find a train that connects to a bus… or isn’t there a ferry? We can be heroes! Although we never are. In the end, money is squandered, your patience is shot, and we’ve left zero time for that other nightmare quandary of ours: packing.
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