I didn’t think I’d ever be the kind of person who’d click on one of those sketchy ads for travel agency plane tickets at like, 1 a.m. But, yeah, I did. Wrapped in a blanket like some sad burrito, phone practically glued to my hand, and my eyes begging for mercy after hours of mindless scrolling.
Maybe it was that fourth espresso shot I shouldn’t have had at dinner. Maybe it was something deeper. That weird late-night quiet when everything feels paused, but your brain keeps sprinting.
I wasn’t even looking for a real trip. Not seriously. It was more like stress window shopping. Imagining a version of me that’s not… stuck.
But okay, let me back up a little.
My Messy Little Thing with Travel
Travel, for me, has never been just about seeing new places. It’s been about escaping… but not in the dramatic movie kind of way. I never wanted to “find myself” in some mountain village or whatever. I just wanted something different.
We didn’t really take vacations when I was a kid. No passports. No airport adventures. Just long, loud road trips to relatives’ houses, if we were lucky. At some point, I guess I started romanticizing flying.
Just the thought of it felt like an escape. Boarding passes. Jet lag. Waking up somewhere unfamiliar gives you this disoriented little thrill. Your brain resets before you even know what’s happening. So, booking a flight without overthinking it? It was a real good escape.
That night, though, it wasn’t about rebellion. I just needed something to feel different.
Clicking When I Should’ve Been Sleeping
So there it was. This ad. “Crazy Deals on Flights – Limited Time Only!” which honestly screamed “virus” to me. But I clicked. I mean, what else was I doing?
Surprisingly, it was real. Like, functioning links and everything.
Next thing I know, I’m looking at airline tickets to Nigeria, which, for the record, I’d never seriously considered before. I don’t have family there. Never even met anyone from there. I think I just liked how alive it seemed from what I’d read.
Lagos, especially, always fascinated me. It’s chaotic and beautiful and kind of intimidating. A city that doesn’t sleep. The idea of being swallowed by that kind of energy? Honestly, it thrilled me.
So yeah, I was looking at flights and playing this weird internal game like, “What if I actually went?”
Cheap Flights and Tiny Dopamine Hits
Something about comparing travel agency plane tickets prices is… addictive. I’m not proud of that, but here we are. Shifting a trip date by one day and seeing the price drop? That’s a hit of joy right there.
I started poking around at airline tickets San Diego to New York, too. I’ve got an old friend there, and we’ve been doing that awkward “we should totally meet up soon” thing that never goes anywhere. Maybe now was the time to make it happen.
It’s funny how flight hunting turns into this imaginary planning spiral. You’re not buying anything. But you’re mapping it all out, just in case. Just in case something pushes you to finally go.
That night, I didn’t buy anything. I just sat with the possibility.
And honestly? That felt new.
Morning-After Panic
Woke up the next morning and boom, guilt. Like a fog. Rent’s due. Life’s waiting. My laundry pile has entered a new ecosystem. And here I was, seriously considering dropping half my savings on an impulse plane ticket.
But then I started asking myself, what was I waiting for, exactly? Permission? Perfect timing?
Because if I’m being real, that never shows up. No one waves a green flag when it’s “safe” to shake up your life.
And something about that quiet realization just… stuck with me. Even though I had every reason not to do anything, I also couldn’t shake this low-key clarity. I needed out, even if just for a week.
The Ticket Was the Turning Point
I didn’t end up flying to Nigeria. Not this time. Still want to someday, but for now, I needed something a little closer.
So I bought a flight from San Diego to New York instead. Honestly, I’d been checking airline tickets San Diego to New York so often by then it felt like fate. It felt manageable. Achievable. I texted my friend and said, “Yo, if I showed up next weekend, would that be weird or awesome?”
She texted back in like three seconds: “Awesome. Come.”
So I booked it. And that trip? It wasn’t life-altering. No magical transformation. But I sat by the window on that flight and cried a little, not from sadness, just release.
I walked, I browsed, I ate, nothing extraordinary, but something shifted. By the end of that strange little day, I felt lighter than I had in months.. And in a way, more mine.
When You Go, Even a Little, You Return a Bit New
At its core, travel can be more about movement than miles. Just the act of choosing to go and say to yourself, ‘You’re not stuck here.’
And that ad for travel agency plane tickets? It might’ve been cheesy, but it cracked something open in me. Reminded me I’m not stuck unless I decide to be.
So maybe next time I will finally book those airline tickets to Nigeria. Or somewhere else wild. Or not so wild. Doesn’t matter.
Because now I know, sometimes, buying the ticket is the destination. Everything after that? Bonus.
