[I wrote this a week ago while sitting in the Tucson airport. For some reason it saved as a draft and did not post. Bear in mind that as I wrote this I hadn't slept in over 24 hours. I just got back from Texas yesterday.]
If you had asked me this time yesterday what I would be doing I would have probably said, “working on my orgs paper,” (though I would have been thinking, “procrastinating from working on my orgs paper.”). I would certainly not have guessed that I would be in an airport waiting to fly to DFW. Well, to Houston, then on to DFW. Yet that is precisely where I am.
Due to a series of unfortunate events, many involving my apartment, and others relating to my general melancholy and dislike of Tucson, I am going home for Thanksgiving. Prior to 6:00 this morning, I had wanted to go home, but had viewed it as highly impractical. Not only was I going to be home for Christmas break in a few weeks anyway, but I had a lot of work to do. Yet this morning, while trying to sleep in my office (which, incidentally, is lacking a couch or anything remotely comfortable), I decided that going home was a possibility. Of course, by that point had been awake 24 hours, so what was my judgment worth?
I called my mom, expecting and half-hoping to be talked out of this nonsense. But my mom was at work and I got my dad, who was very concerned and enthusiastic about my coming home (my mom was as well, once I actually spoke to her). After having several internet-related mishaps, I finally called Continental (on the actual telephone! so old school!) to purchase my tickets for this morning.
On a quick stop at Target on the way to the airport, I noticed a baby bib with a sailboat on it, and decided that my as-yet-unborn nephew had to have it. I should have known better than to wander into the baby section. I walked out with all manner of onesies, tiny jackets, socks, shirts, and the most adorable little shoes you've ever seen.
Despite my detour, I arrived at the airport a dutiful 2.5 hours early. This seems excessive for Tucson International Airport, but that's what the local radio had been advising for days. I had paid attention, not out of any actual belief that it may pertain to me, but out of a wishful thinking that ended up being realized. Turns out, it might have been better had I not listened. I got through check-in and security faster than I ever have at any airport. The airport also seems emptier than I have ever seen it. Not only that, but my flight itself has been delayed because of weather. This could be problematic if it results in me getting into Houston too late to catch my flight to DFW.