I always find the end of conferences such a melancholic time. Half the people have left, things are getting broken down, and it’s just you and the hum of hotel air conditioning. That is why I ty to leave before the bitter end, so I don’t get too despondent.
That is what I had planned for BlogPaws. Wraps up Saturday night, and I was going to book it out Sunday morning before I had time to be sad it was over.
Well, Irene had other plans, such as winging through DC the very moment I was supposed to be taking off. So I postponed my flight one day out of an overabundance of caution. As it turned out, I might have been able to depart on time- about half the flights were cancelled- but I was glad I didn’t take that chance.
So Sunday I found myself wandering about, until a kind Dorian took pity on me and invited me to the mall to go flip flop shopping. They had a Lululemon store there. That cheered me up considerably. I even got a new jacket out of the deal. That cheered me up even more, because that hotel was cold.
Anyway, I had been getting frantic messages from my parents the whole weekend about the State of my Travels. “Get there 5 hours early!” encouraged my dad. “They’re saying travel is going to be a nightmare on Monday. NIGHTMARE!”
So I dragged my butt downstairs 2 1/2 hours before my flight to get a taxi, not wanting to trust in a meandering Super Shuttle. I didn’t even have to wait for a cab. One was sitting out there hoping someone needed a lift.
No matter, I thought. It’s going to be a nightmare at the airport. Good thing I have all this extra time.
My first clue that I may have missed the boat on this one was when the cabbie dropped me off at the empty curb.
I paid an extra $25 to get into the fast security line. Well thank goodness for that. *flushes $25*
The sun was just peeking over the horizon as the tram lumbered sleepily over to the terminal.
On the plus side, there were plenty of places to sit for the 2 hour wait.
One blogger and 249 businesspeople on a plane. Only one was quaint enough to be taking pictures. At least it was a quiet flight, and no, I didn’t give the big guy in the middle my aisle seat. Forget that.
On both my flight out and my flight in, the person in the window pulled the shade down for the entire flight, robbing me of the grand pleasure of ensuring our plane was descending at a good horizontal angle during landing as well as the spectacular view of downtown on approach. I got robbed.
Ah, sunny San Diego, home of the world’s most ridiculously congested terminals. Then I started to feel normal again.