I fiddled and drug my feet getting out the door this morning on my way to the airport. Typically (when hauling kids via planes anywhere) I feel it is mandatory to be at the airport a minimum of two hours ahead of time. Plenty of time, no rushing is my motto.
With out children...
Well, I get to the airport about an hour before. Surely enough time for a solo flying gal, right? I am forced to stand in a ridiculous line to check my luggage. I finally make my way to the next available kiosk only to have super awesome bag checker lady inform me I am checking my bags after the 45 minute time frame therefore they won't guarantee by bags will make the flight. (Even though I stood in their ridiculous line for 20 minutes. Not to mention this technicality is over two, TWO (2) little minutes.)
Plagued with a dilemma here - I mean I'm traveling for 9 days - I politely ask her if they don't make the flight, when would they be sent. She says on the 6:30 pm flight that night - okay, not the end of the world. I then ask her what is the probability they will still make it... Miss Helpy-Helperson informs me that if I would stop asking questions and "just let her tag the bags and do her job," the better the chance of my bags getting on the plane.
Oh no she didn't!
Did she really just say that to me?
Two can be snotty Missy!
So I replied, "Well then you better tag away and earn that paycheck of yours."
Yep, sure did.
I will not let her dampen my mood today!
After getting through security and boarding the tram to the terminal, I realized Miss Cheery never told me what gate I was boarding from. A little fancy finger work on my iPhone - thank you once again for being such a smart phone - I was strolling in the right direction.
After a short glorious flight, (having a seat to myself, not having to pick up dropped toys, shhh kids, entertain anyone....) we landed in Albuquerque.
Yes it's a business trip...
Not really a vacation...
But the room is worth it. My own little retreat.
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