the first 24 hours

It has been just over 24 hours since my fiance and I made the snap decision to purchase two of jetBlue airline's "All-You-Can-Jet" 30-day unlimited flight tickets. After happening upon a Yahoo news article about the golden tickets and realizing that we had enough on our credit card to cover the $1000 combined price tag—we pulled the trigger before we could change our minds, or wise up. The whole process only took about 20 minutes, and afterward we looked at each other and realized the gravity of what we'd just done.

A half-hour ago we hadn't even know that these tickets existed, now they were ours; with all their promises and our reality in stark contrast. The reason we can even embark on such a trip is that we are both unemployed. But since we are both unemployed, we don't have a lot of disposable income laying around. We had a mason jar of cash with $250 in it that was going to go toward paying for our wedding, but now the wedding will have to wait.

We also have 25 years of acquired items that line the walls of our tiny Brooklyn apartment, items that must now be sold so this already paid for trip can become a reality. And after sitting around the apartment for months, the thought of trading in our possessions for experience seems like a rare opportunity rather than a grim obligation.

We have a few days before we are able to book the first of our flights and have spent hours drawing maps, researching cities, and locating which friends are willing to let crash with them. We are also trying to unravel the intricacies of jetBlue's airport system without the benefit of a advanced mathematic degree. We're striving to come up with the perfect itinerary: one that keeps us moving about the country for a month without having to fly back to NYC every other day for a connecting flight. I also need to renew my passport if we're going to take advantage of the jetBlue's international options.

We have many puzzles to solve before we can make this improbable vacation a reality. Now I must get back to the job at hand; cataloguing DVDs & CDs to sell on-line and on our stoop.