Traveling is the worst. I love it as a general concept, and I love going places. But you know what I don’t love? Waiting. The actual “travel” part. It’s just exhausting. And to make matters worse, I always–always–end up booking flights that are either unreasonably early in the morning or ridiculously late at night. I don’t know why; I don’t intentionally do it, and I always get annoyed when I realize I’ve done it. So this time, for this trip, my friend and I managed to book a flight out of O’Hare for somewhere around 8am. Which means getting to the airport no later than 5am. I’ve certainly ignored advise to arrive three hours early to an airport before, and there has been at least one time when I got to the airport about 20 minutes before my flight was supposed to be boarding. But lately, there have been all kinds of stories about how ridiculously long the security wait times have been at the larger airports. When I look at real-time updates from other travelers about what their wait times were, I’m not seeing much evidence of those long delays, but this really isn’t the sort of trip where I’m willing to tempt fate. The plane tickets were pretty cheap, since we booked early, but the hotel was not, and our theater tickets certainly weren’t. Missing our flight would be a nightmare. So we’re back to us having to be at the airport around 5am. Which means we’ve had to call a cab to haul our tired asses from the place we were crashing Wednesday night to the airport.
Riding in cabs is always vaguely unsettling to me, largely because of the first time I went to NYC and realized halfway through a midnight cab ride from the airport that the picture in the window of the driver did not match the actual driver. There are very few things that have frightened me more than that. Fortunately, I watch a lot of scary movies, so I knew that it was in my best interests to not draw attention to that discrepancy. Instead, I sat quietly in the backseat with my sister and mother and waited until we had been safely deposited at our hotel to mention it to them. People who point out that serial killers are probably serial killers get killed off pretty early in the movie. People who keep their mouths shut and pretend everything is totally fine survive. 😉
Anyway. The moral of the story is that traveling is tedious and not something I enjoy very much. I’d like to skip ahead to the part where I’m already wherever I’m going.