I used to be good at traveling. Eager. Prepared. Able. Security was a breeze. Sleep was possible anywhere, in almost any position.

Now nervous. Barely ready. Discomfort no matter how I shift and adjust in my seat with a whole row to myself. Can still do security, because let's face it it's not hard to look around and see what other people are doing. But for a chunk of my life, from 15 to 24, I was in transit every couple of months. Now, maybe two flights a year, generally short ones.

I used to be able to speak French. Not well; I was never fluent. But I could converse. Now, I listen to the flow of dialogue around me and can maybe pick out a word or here that just makes me realize how out of practice I am at speaking other languages. Hell, I don't even fell comfortable using the three Russian words I know, whereas years ago I would have done my damnedest to try something, anything, that was better than apologetically stammering English.

I used to be able to sleep. I could do it for hours. Days, probably, if school and work hadn't got in the way. But now I just don't have the stamina for a full night's sleep. The intent is there, the willingness is there, but apparently intent and willingness will only get you so far. I'll lie there, lament my inability to close escrow on a full night's sleep, and wonder if that's it, I'll never be as good as I once was at traveling, communicating, sleeping.

So maybe it's not just a lack of practice. Maybe it's just a part of getting older. But I'm going to try and practice the hell out of traveling, sleeping, and speaking in the next couple of months. I'll let you know how it goes.

And no euphemisms were intended in the writing of this entry. One thing I haven't lost is the ability to make innocent things sound dirty. No practice needed there.