I am the first to admit that I can be flighty and scatter brained. Remember, I am the one who scheduled a flight last year and was off by a month. A MONTH!! I can be such a flake.
This year, though, thanks to Julie checking my itinerary before I processed it, everything was right.
Wait, not quite. I did forget to wait at the kiosk for my second boarding pass but that was caught right there in the Phoenix airport, where the nice lady behind the counter was able to print it for me and all was well.
So yes, that happened.
But the rest of the day? Awesomeness! Seriously.
Julie and I got to the airport at about 6:30, which was just right because security took FOREVER. But even that wasn’t all that stressful, because, duh, we got there with plenty of time, unlike the lady behind me in line who was wearing a baby and only had ten minutes to get through security and make it to their gate. And! Yes, there is always an and. And the baby was hungry. Poor little darlin’.
Ahh, but Julie and I were the picture of relaxed as we watched the sun rise enough to hit the tops of the mountains outside the airport. So pretty.
As we watched the beauty that is an Arizona sunrise, I said something so completely and totally stupid. I said, “I love visiting Arizona. It’s beautiful here. But I think I’d miss rain.”
Ha. Hahahahaha. What’s that you hear? Is that karma laughing in the background? Little did I know that five hours later, I’d be climbing into my car and driving through pouring rain for over an hour on my way home.
“You’d miss rain?” Mother Nature cackled. “I’ll make sure you never have to miss rain, you silly twit.”
Earlier in the weekend, I’d stressed just a little over the tight-ish connection I had in Chicago and the fact that I was arriving in Terminal 1 and leaving out of Terminal 2. I had 42 minutes between my arrival in Chicago and my departure to Detroit. Any sort of delay was going to make things tough.
But after an amazing motivational speech by Kevin Bracy, I decided to let it go. I also decided not to entertain any possibility that I wouldn’t make that connection.
When I called Tom from the airport in Phoenix, I told him I’d call him when I was in Detroit. I didn’t tell him I’d call him if I missed my flight in Chicago, I didn’t even mention the tight connection. I was going to make that plane and I was going to call him for Detroit.
We relaxed on the plane from Phoenix to Detroit, though I admit to not drinking anything during the three hour flight for fear of having to pee as I made my way from the very end of Gate C to Gate F in O’Hare.
Then, behold, the angels sang. Well, okay, so the pilot came over the intercom and declared, “Welcome to Chicago, O’Hare. We’re arriving about ten minutes ahead of schedule.”
And get this! There was not dawdling on the tarmac, there was no gate change that necessitated us taxi-ing from one gate to another. No, everyone was very civilized as they gathered their belonging and deplaned.
Being the smart woman I am, I checked my bigger bag in Phoenix, figuring it was just a bunch of dirty laundry, if it missed the flight to Detroit, it would make its way home eventually. I’d put the girls’ souvenirs in the smaller bag I carried on. So smart!
Julie and I got off the plane, found some monitors, hugged goodbye and I fast walked through the airport, following signs to gate F.
Then I came to the end of gate B and…it was a dead end.
I asked three airport employees for directions to gate F and they told me I was just in time. They directed me down some stairs where a shuttle was waiting to transport me and four other lucky passengers across the tarmac to terminal 2.
There was a very helpful gentleman who told me that my gate was across the hall from the stairs I’d be taking to get back into the airport. And, he told me, the ladies room was next to my gate. The skies opened and blessing rained down upon the land.
I checked with the lady guarding gate F2B and she told me we’d be boarding in about twenty minutes.
I used the bathroom, bought a sandwich (that breakfast Julie and I had in Phoenix was long gone) and a bottle of water and waited.
Boarding commenced and everyone was so nice.
I didn’t have to climb over anyone to get into my window seat, which is unusual, let me tell you. Even more surprising was that as people continued to board the plane, no one sat next to me. And then the flight attendant closed the door and STILL no one sat next to me. I had two whole seats to myself. I put the arm rest up, pulled down the tray (we were high in the sky by this point) and ate my sandwich, relaxed and happy to be that much closer to home.
And then we landed, my bag found its way onto the baggage carousel and together, my bag and I found our way to my car.
I called Tom from my car to tell him that I was finally in control of my travel and I’d be home in two and a half hours.
The rain added some time to my travel. I was three minutes later than I’d anticipated when I pulled into our garage, where Lyss and Liv were already waiting for me.
It was so, so lovely to see them.
Yes, it’s always nice to get away, but it’s even nicer to come home.