Grouchy

For 25(ish) minutes yesterday I was in a big metal thing sitting on concrete watching a lightning storm pass me by.

Storms delayed my flight from Atlanta to Kansas. That the flight was late wasn't the thing that concerned me the most.

I had no connecting flight in Wichita, and I really didn't care if anyone else was late.

What worried me is the metal part. If I remember third grade science right, metal and lightning don't mix well. Throw in a massive amount of anxiety and a dose of Dramamine (at least my stomach was okay through this) and I didn't have a great trip home.

This whole flying thing is weird. Remember, this is the first time I've flown by myself and only the second time I've ever flown.

You have to get into a big metal thing and trust a total stranger not to kill you. And then you have to trust 200 other strangers not to kill you, too.

And some of those strangers are really annoying.

Before our weather delay, the guy in front of me was talking on the phone. The plane isn't full, he said, and you still have time to get here.

Please note that I'm tired, grouchy, kind of anxious and kind of irritated that I have to listen to another human being's voice at this point.

The guy then gave at least a 10-minute explanation of how to get to gate A32.*

You turn here, go down there, and walk about 10 minutes, he told his friend on the phone.

He went on and on and on and I was pretty sure he'd never stop talking.

In the meantime, I'm thinking just tell your stupid friend that gate A32 is between gates A31 and A33. And then shut up and get off the phone.

If we crashed the plane on an island, I'd probably punch him in the face. (Lost reference for those of you who don't know).

I should also mention that I haven't slept well this week and I just finished reading Tina Fey's "Bossypants."

I'm tired, grouchy, and kind of in a "Don't even bother messing with me' kind of a mood.

Ha, ha.

*I just made that gate number up, but you get the point.

Also, no one got on the plane after dude's phone conversation ended. Maybe his friend really couldn't find gate A32.

I also thought I lost my phone in the Atlanta airport. I backtracked and still couldn't find it. After a few minutes and an almost-heart attack later, I found it.

It was in my purse.

A happy note: I bought a copy of The New York Times and the Atlanta newspaper. The Sunday Times is thicker then my head, and you better believe I was nose-deep in that thing for the afternoon.

There's so much newspaper there I'm probably going to be reading it for the rest of my week.