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Today has been a comedy of errors. Murphy is not kind. As the dutiful loving spouse who does not work outside the home in a 9-5 capacity, I am tasked with going to the airport early to check luggage so my DH (dear husband) can work all day and roll in by the skin of his teeth to make an early evening flight. It is what it is.
Our Journey
After being jerked around by delay updates via text from the airline all afternoon, we decided to roll the dice and get on our flight anyway. I checked the golf clubs at the counter. Ofcourse the bag is heavy and extra long and the wheel caught one of the silver poles. The weight jerked me down and I promptly lost my balance. I fell backwards over my suitcase and tossed the contents of my carry-on all over the floor in front of the counter. I was so tangled it took three people to help me up. I didn’t know if I should laugh, cry, or curtsy, so I took a bow.
Once I recovered and got the clubs checked, the flight was promptly delayed again. My DH asked me to go back to the counter to see if I could get the clubs returned. So I did. And then the flight was promptly reinstated. Don’t tell me God doesn’t have a sense of humor.
To be continued…
We doubled down and checked the clubs yet again. My TSA pre number was missing from my boarding pass. So we took the time to get that fixed and damn it if my boots didn’t set off the metal detector and I had to take my shoes off anyway. This. Was. Not. My. Day.
Seeking solace at the lone bar in Chattavegas airport, we sat down. Thirty minutes later we bought our own dinner from a kiosk around the corner. It wasn’t the fault of the waitresses. They were overwhelmed by the number of people stuck with delayed flights in our joke of an airport.
To Be Continued…
We got the clubs back again and drove to Atlanta in downpour of rain and darkness in hopes of catching the last flight out to our destination. My boots set off the metal detector again.
We made the flight and got on the plane. It was a long bumpy flight but we made it. Drove to the hotel. The valet was closed and circle driveway to the front of the hotel was cordoned off. Seriously? So we self parked in the desert and wandered into the lobby like the forlorn bedraggled zombies we were.
In the End…
Woke up this morning. No bruises on my bum, but my back is quite angry about my fall. I couldn’t summon the energy for gratitude at 2 AM. Today, however, the sun is shining. I had blueberry pancakes for breakfast and I took a lovely stroll around the golf course before heading to explore the Japanese Tea Garden downtown. Grateful for the attitude reset and the possibility of Advil.
Working this hard to have fun is frankly ridiculous. Peace Out from your favorite First World Princess. Dental Nerds and Bookish Wives play hard at tooth conferences. Let’s Get this Party Started.
Love Y’all, Marla