I hope everyone’s weekend was a little better than mine. Actually, I take that back, the whole weekend wasn’t horrible. The hubby and I had date night on Friday & I got to do some much needed retail therapy with one of my best friends on Sunday. So, allow me to rephrase that. Let’s hope everyone’s SATURDAY was better than mine. What happened to me on Saturday morning was awful. I wouldn’t even wish that on my greatest enemy. Not that I have one, but if I did, I wouldn’t wish what happened to me on them.
No, nothing violent or devastating happened (well, that’s subjective), I just spent 6 hours flying to Philly, waiting in lines in Philly, waiting for a plane in Philly and flying back to DC. Which, here’s a shocker, wasn’t done for the sheer fun of spending time in a scary, tin box death trap. My flight from Philly to Chicago was cancelled, as well as the flight before it. Plus, all of the flights on Friday night to Chicago were cancelled so all of those misplaced travelers were immediately put on the next available flights on Saturday morning. Yippee for me. I got to spend 30 minutes waiting in a line full of REALLY tired, REALLY angry people.
I didn’t take a picture of the woman in front of me, but her face resembled this one. Maybe a little angrier.
Normally, a cancelled flight isn’t a huge deal. You just hop on the next available one and spend your time before that flight sucking down cocktails at the nearest airport pub. But my situation wasn’t normal. I was going to Chicago for one night to celebrate one of my really good friends bachelorette party. I was planning to get in around 10:30am so I could make the Cubs game (that we planned for her), spend the day frolicking around the city then leave on Sunday at 7am to make an 8:30 flight out back home.
So when was the next available flight into the city? 5pm, which wouldn’t get me into Chicago until 7pm. Plus, I’d have to get a cab/take the metro which would take an additional 40-60 minutes, depending on traffic. So, at that point, I’d be in Chicago for less than 10 hours. So I called my friend and explained the situation. I told her that I’d go since I knew it was important to her. But she told me not to worry about it and to get a flight home. I was completely crushed, but it was out of my hands. So I had them re-route me back to DC, refund my $ (which they did, no problem) and I was back at Reagan around 3pm. Luckily, the U.S Airways rep I talked to on the phone was very, very nice and issued me a refund with no questions asked.
That, friends, was my Saturday morning. Oh and to add insult to injury, I HATE FLYING. Not just the normal hate, I loathe it. I absolutely, hands down, ABHOR flying. I have extreme flight anxiety. It’s so bad that even prior to boarding I start crying, choke up and can’t breathe. Luckily, I had some happy pills (read: Xanax) that made my flight anxiety dissipate for both flights. I highly, HIGHLY recommend anyone with severe flight anxiety like myself to see a dr. and ask for this prescription. It will change your life. Normally during take off, I would be sobbing, gasping for air and grasping the arm rests with my sweaty, sweaty palms. However, on Saturday, I was completely at ease. I think I even said “look at how pretty the sky is!” Without those happy pills, I would have been a blubbering, sobbing, hot mess of a human being. Oh and I would have drop kicked the US Air Reps into next week. I am, by no means, an advocate for drug use, but these happy pills are a life saver.
By the time I was in the car and on my way home, the happy pills had worn off and I was RAGING. I was exhausted, upset and starving. My husband took that as a sign to take me straight to Costco so that we could 1) buy me a hot dog 2) buy a bulk size of some sort of alcohol. Both were happily accomplished and I was a little less stabby. As soon as I got home, I laid on the couch (the gorgeous new couch!) and passed out drunk watching Lifetime movies.
So now you see why I hope your Saturday was infinitely better than mine.