Me and Layovers

So, I have learned.

There is toothpaste, a toothbrush, and a change of underwear this time around.

There’s even deodorant.

I have yarn and my laptop.

I made it to a hotel.

There’s been food. Good food, in fact–but I forgot dessert and the need for chocolate is gonna haunt me, can’t lie.

It wasn’t my fault.

The plane left late, encountered weather at the end, and I ended up running forty gates only to be told the connecting flight had left my ass in the dust.

It’s a Wyndham hotel– not bad. The rain is raining everywhere, it lands on fields and trees…

I’ve seen SEVERAL giant cracks of lightning from the shuttle and the hotel. (Sort of cool, because we don’t get that sort of thing in California a lot.)

I can hear every plane taking off from Detroit International.

Every. Plane.

I’ve heard people in three different rooms having SUPER NOISY SEX. I didn’t think that was a thing in a Wyndham. Is it a thing in Detroit?

I’m getting up at 5:30 to catch the shuttle the airport. I should be slightly more coherent–and less stinky– than I was when it took 30 hours to get to Newark.

I shall savor the difference.

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