All told, it took me 27 hours to get home.
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!