Airport Departure: Part 3

At four o'clock in the morning the last thing I want anyone to do is talk to me, let alone have anyone "joke" with me. No, absolutely not. I haven't eaten anything, I didn't get a full nights sleep, and it sure as hell was not in my bed. I swear, if someone so much as looks at me the wrong way this morning, I am going to punch them in the face.

(I don't actually ever punch anyone, but I say that a lot. It's cathartic.)

I don't hate this person from Richmond, but I would never have chosen to travel with them on purpose. Last night he went on about how I look for dramatic situations to place myself in as to keep myself amused. This is not true. This shit happens. For example, the absurdity of the past twenty-four hours. He misinterpreted me from over a year ago, I hate it when people claim to "hate drama." No one "hates drama" because their lives would be fucking boring if there were no shred of drama in it.

Anyway, I am fully capable of reflecting on my life all by myself and last night's psychoanalysis was unwelcome, but mostly because of the person it was coming from. I almost wish I had cared enough to return the favor.

Today's security line was nonexistent. We got here over an hour ahead of time, and there was no line. There was not a single person ahead of us. Do you understand? I waited in a line yesterday that was like a mile long, and today, NOTHING. At least I still have internet access and can vent uninterrupted without anyone telling me to feel better. Everyone needs to vent, and yeah, I've vented a lot, but would too in my situation, or want to, or maybe not. Maybe you're a better person than I am. Maybe. I doubt it though. If you had spent twelve hours in an airport yesterday without the promise of going anywhere, you would probably hate everyone within sight too.

In the mean time, this is kind of making me feel better.



My flight leaves in less than an hour. I will be home, to my empty fridge and overflowing recycling in about six hours!