"Fell Asleep on Tuesday Woke Up Monday Afternoon"

I had a flight at 8:10 Saturday morning, Delta, direct to the Washington Dulles airport. I would officially touch East Coast ground at 2:09 p.m. EST (we are in standard time now, right?). So you can bet that didn't happen.

First, when I got there, I decided to check the monitor for my flight, knowing that the foggy conditions might create delays or something. I think that was the last rational thought my sleep-deprived, fever-hindered mind came up with. But good thing I checked, because my flight wasn't even listed. Dang. Quick phone call to the parents, who checked it out online, and...

Now I had a connecting flight to Cincinnati that would land at 1:40, catch another plane at 2:40 to Dulles. I wasn't terribly worried, as there are three major airports in my area to choose to land me in. And trust me, I never, ever ever fly in and out of the same airport. I didn't even know I'd be flying to Dulles until Thursday afternoon. It doesn't really matter to me, as long as my parents know where to go to pick me up. And also, I'd never been to Cincinnati before, so I didn't mind, even though I really hate layovers.

This is why I hate layovers. Because things always happen. Like my flight from Salt Lake being delayed, so I had 15 minutes to sprint through terminals, knocking slow-moving (and they were everywhere) people out of my way. I made it to the gate with two minutes to spare, at which point the lady told me my ticket had been cancelled. Great. She was typing stuff on the computer, complaining she didn't know how to fix it. So eventually she gave up and let me go through and get on my flight anyway. Whew, made it! I probably didn't even have to HAVE a ticket, all I had to do was look like a tired, green-around-the-gills, possibly consumptive, poor, starving, but still-smiling college student with long, blonde hair and I could get ANYthing. I musy try this theory out sometime.

Then I landed and my parents and Rachael called at the same time. And by "same time," I mean "same time I walked through the tunnel going to Baggage Claim that made my cell phone lose service." Jerks.

Baggage Claim was the best part. It was about 4 p.m. We were there until 7. Because I had made my connecting flight, but my luggage hadn't. I hadn't eaten since 4:30 that morning, I was drained, feverish, sluggish, and my brain had actually made me tell my father, instead of saying my flight had been delayed, that it was "latered." As you can see, I wasn't up to peak performance.

But I finally got home and Rachael and Kristin came by. I really think it was all a dream, especially because most of the time I just sat there, unable to contribute, but I called Russell and left him a message that we were coming over. For those of you who are not fortunate enough to be able to know the Virgins: sorry, kids. That family is freakin' hilarious. And I know them.

Then today I spent a lot of time sleeping, even though I was in church for three hours. That means I not only took a five-hour nap after church, but that I took a lot of naps during church. Except for when we were discussing the concept of hope. No way was I going to let THAT opportunity slip through my scrawny fingers.