I can't put my arms down

          There is always that one person on the flight who you can tell has never flown before, with their overstuffed carry ons all up in your business as they inch plow past you and you duck your head to narrowly avoid being knocked out by their backpack. Well today I was that unfortunate soul. Let me tell you, I have done my fair share of flying and it is not easy to fit six months of clothing into a single suitcase and carry on, not easy at all. Although my mother claims she lived out of a small backpack for five months. Well mom, times have changed, and you came back with purple hair and no eyebrows so I think I'll stick with my 45.5 lb suitcase and two carry ons thank you very much.  
          So of course there I am, sweating bullets because I had a tank top, shirt, sweater, north face, ski jacket  and obnoxiously large scarf on, feeling like Randy from A Christmas Story,

lumbering down the aisle with my checked bag and "personal item" that were both ripping at the seems, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I get to my seat which naturally is the fourth from last row of the airplane. I could almost hear people applauding at the fact that I was finally sitting down and they still had their faces in tact. Then came the moment of truth: would my carry on fit in the overhead compartment. Of course not because that would be easy. After many moments of silence as people held their breath watching me push and shove my carry on, waiting to see if it would fit, (but of course not offering any assistance because what's the fun in that?) a kind flight attendant offered me a trash bag to put some of my belongings in so I could sit down and the plane could take off. Well thank you flight attendant for your unwavering hospitality, even though that is your job. At least I can take off my ski jacket now.