trapped in airport land

part I: I Should Have Called Ahead.
showed up in proper time for my afternoon flight out yesterday, gave heather a big hug and thanks for ever-incomparable hospitality, waved so long and watched her toodle off in the adorable blue mini. dragged the typical crap inside to check in– only to find that all flights into and out of chicago were canceled due to weather until the morning. oops. poor heather, having reached home, received my distress message, turned right around and came back, swooped me up and whisked me away to most delectable goodberry’s frozen custard confection, followed by an evening of further delightful conversation, wild mushroom risotto, and an early night to bed once more in the mmmmmmarshmallow guest bed.

part II: Yaawwwwwwnnn– And For What?
arose basically at Insomnia Hour, 4:30 (3:30 cst) to make my 6:30 a.m. flight– cabbed it to the airport in the pitch black, wound my way through the longlong snaky lines through security and down to the gate, only to discover no evidence of my fabled flight, only the previously scheduled and long-since filled 7:03 one. I should have suspected something was afoot on the basis of the agents’ shifty eyes yesterday and this morning as they scrambled through terminal screens and printouts in search of my “flight” and then were all, oh– oh yes of course– flight 9578– they’re just building that one. um, building it? never a good sign. basically? it never existed, I now realize. I am but a pawn in their game. how exactly it benefited the airline personnel to invent this crack of dawn flight when no one ever had a hope of flying us out before 11 (if then…), I’ll never know. now they have hoards of hopping mad chicagoans mobbing the podiums, their own little circle of transit hell, and everyone’s day is wrecked. oh, air travel, thou harsh hearted mistress. it’s never fun being lied to– even when it’s as impersonal as an airline doing it.

part III: Remaining Zen About It All
so here I sit in Cyber Cafe, sipping not actually terrible coffee and eating greasy airport egg “panini”, counting my blessings– most wonderful visit just enjoyed, respite from chicago’s snow and ice for a weekend of raleigh’s blooms and victorians, a coupla bars of wireless access. the only real loser, ultimately, is my employer, cheated irredeemably out of half a day’s labor, possibly more as time will tell. but what can I do? I sit at the whim of the aviation gods. at least I can get online (don’t get me started on the airports and hotels that charge for access in this day and age), vent my spleen in rather pointless bloggery, and attend somewhat to emails and digital biz. que sera, que sera, que sera. nothing in the end is really all that doggone critical– only annoying, and annoyance is fleeting. just like those beautiful waves of clouds out the window before me, rolling across the horizon in untroubled flightpaths.

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