Yesterday went down as the most boring, most tedious, and most uncomfortable day in the history of people ever getting stuck in airports. I spent 19.5 hours traveling, 12 of which consisted of me staring at people walking by in the Atlanta airport while I exploited every seating arrangement possible between gates T1-T17. I didn't get arrested for it, but I did confer on myself The Creepiest Fidgeter award. I was in the airport for so long that my birth certificate actually changed itself to say "Tom Hanks" because the Universe starting blurring the lines between the movie The Terminal and my life.
By the end of they day, I was too brain-damaged by the boredom to drive home from Eugene without making 97 wrong turns and then nearly missing my own driveway. I also suspect I had a dead-fish funk by the time I arrived, mostly because several cats gave me hungry looks as I drove by.
True to form as a thoughtful gift-giver, I brought Stephanie a t-shirt from the CDP that states "I Am Naked." It's magnificent, normally used for actors in the mass casualty event training, who apparently don't want to actually be naked when going through decontamination (if you had seen the volunteers, you would have not wanted them to be naked either).
The Sunset
11 months ago
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