In My Own Little Corner

So here I sit, enduring an imposed relaxation. And I’m kind of happy about it…

I fly so much, and I’m such a Virgo, that I generally arrive at least two hours before any flight. I like the downtime after I get through security, I HATE running for a plane. And after this weekend the soles of my feet – especially my heels – feel like I’ve been tango-ing on hot coals, so the less running the better…

But this time I skimmed it, I got to the car return an hour before my flight, and I was so rattled that I left one bag in the car. Damn.

When I got to the counter I finally noticed my missing bag, there were a lot of folks ahead of me and the realization hit that I was definitely going to miss my plane. I asked the woman behind the counter (okay, I frantically asked…) if I could be checked in right away, but was told that there were folks ahead of me. And there were.

I’m usually not late, but I have been in line when someone runs up, frantic, sweating, late, and I’ve seen the airline folks run the gamut between seriously concerned and working hard to get them on the flight to barking, “Get BACK in line, sir!”

My counter woman fell somewhere between these two extremes, but it was no go. Especially when I realized that my asthma medicine was in my bag in my car, so there was NO WAY I would board a plane without it. Sometimes up in a pressurized cabin my breathing can get wonky, I know I could get close to panicking without my albuterol.

So I missed my flight. There were able to get me on the next flight, in an exit row seat (I’d already paid a premium for one, I’m Miss Longlegs) and they didn’t charge me an additional fee. Ah, the benefits of many frequent flyer segment points.

But the next flight was 7 hours away. I guess I could have done a connecting flight, but I just didn’t feel like I could process the whole ‘stop here, change there, arrive here’ thing, and I would have only cut about an hour off of my trip.

I returned to the rental car desk, they had my bag with everything inside just as I left it, and I’m breathing easier now (literally).

So I’ve been sitting in a Starbucks on concourse B for five hours, I have two to go. I’m buying a latte or ham sandwich every hour or so, and I’m tucked in a little corner right by a window where I can watch the passers by.

I like being at the Starbucks because the wifi is working (there seems to be free wifi here at the Columbus airport) and I am in an easy chair with a footstool (scamming that stool took a good hour of waiting). And I’m very close to a woman’s room. All the comforts of home.

Since it’s the day that many folks are returning from TNNA, I keep seeing knitters and shop owners passing by. I’m keeping a low profile, but when Amy Singer went by I flagged her and we had a short chat before she went off to her [delayed] flight. She’s still voice-less, so it was a one sided chat, but it was nice for me because it broke up the monotony.

I called Gerry to tell him about my late arrival – I’ll miss Max’s first baseball game of the season today – but I’ll be arriving AFTER the game, so that should work out well. Gerry told me that as soon as Max got up this morning he put on his uniform and has been wearing it all day.

Maybe it’s best I didn’t arrive an hour earlier, after all…

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