I left the hotel at 1:30 to catch a flight that was originally supposed to leave at 3:15 but had been pushed back to 4:15 and in the end didn't leave until 6 or so. By the time it got to Charlotte, my connecting flight was long gone. Can I just say that realizing I wasn't going to make it home last night was made worse somehow by realizing I had exhausted my two travel outfits, and I was going to have to wear a miniskirt, leggings, and a "Fuck This Imperialist Bullshit" Princess Leia T-shirt through three airports. (Oddly enough, the T-shirt was a HUGE hit among the North Carolina TSA. Like three separate compliments and a whole host of smiles. Was sort of awesome.)
Anyway, I got a hotel to sleep in--for four hours--and found myself on the shuttle at 4:20 this morning, riding grimly in the dark.
Into the silence one of the men thirty-ish young men, both wearing ball caps and scruff and looking grimly determined to get to New York-- said to his buddy, "Reed, how do you think the airline'll fuck us over today?"
Now, while some of my discomfort had been caused by a weather cell, a lot of it had been caused by the way the airline handled the weather cell, and I found myself giggling uncontrollably until we got to the terminal.
The two flights--to Dallas, then Sacramento-- weren't bad, but in the meantime, we'd had difficulty arranging childcare. Squish is still sick, and she was home, and my mom came to pick her up just when I was arriving in the airport. You don't ask my parents for favors lightly, so explaining to mom that was in town and I just needed her to leave the door open since I didn't have keys ended up with Squish staying home since I was getting there.
I don't know. She was alone when I got home (no big deal-- she's old enough to not burn the house down or go running naked into traffic by this time) but my parents haven't responded to my texts or phone calls since so I obviously managed to screw up arranging childcare through Chicken from 3000 miles away.
No matter--I'm here--and obviously exhausted and babbling--and the dogs are so incredibly needy.
And Dewey, the fucker, has been judging me all day.
Seems to think I should have brought him a souvenir.
Fuck him--he'll have swag to bat around and that's all he's getting.
And maybe I'll get me some sleep!