Chicago.

So, I guess there is an explanation.

Last weekend, I took a vacation. Not the sort of thing I do very often, but a couple days off wrapped around a weekend did me well.

Thursday, March 13th.
Prep day. Get the cat boarded, get some errands run that were hanging over my head (traffic ticket story to be recounted eventually), spend the evening with my girlfriend, get distracted by usual silliness, plan to stay awake all night catching up on the planning and preparation...

Friday, March 14th.
6:15am. The phone rings. I awake from my general stupor, realizing that I'd fallen asleep after all. Answer the phone. The girl, in her high awesomeness, called to make sure I was awake and would make my flight. I belt out "Oh my god, I'm glad you called, wish I could talk more, but I've got a ton of stuff to do in a very short time, talk soon..."

6:30am. Packed, spilled a bottle of liquid bandage (aka Nu-Skin) on my bathroom counter, made sure all the lights were out, put out the remaining fires. On the road, coffee is a must, but no dallying on the way to the airport.

6:40am. Coffee acquired. Sitting in traffic. Wondering why there is traffic at such an ungodly hour.

7:15am. Decide long-term parking is out. Going to suck up the costs of a couple days in short-term. Rationalize this.

7:25am. Checked in for flight. Boarding time: 8:05. Just got to get through security, and I'm golden.

7:55am. Through security. Called the girl to thank her and let her know I'd be on my flight ok. Discovered they'd decided to book early and were on final call already. Packed flight, got as comfortable as I could in a middle seat, released from panic-mode.

8:30am. Flight takes off. Close my eyes.

*dream sequence* wake up a couple times here and there, but I'm on "sleep to kill time" schedule.

1:30pm lost two hours. flight landing nearly an hour early. as soon as they give the all clear, call one of my friends I'm supposed to meet. Wonder why he's so adamant that another friend is picking him up from the airport and he'd call me later (even though we landed at the same airport and were headed to the same hotel. Give up thinking.)

Call the girl, let her know I landed safely (beginning of her lunch hour. I love it when a plan comes together.)

Notice I have a voicemail. It was work calling to ask me about something I had no power over at all. Said I'd look into it as soon as I had internet access (which is true, I did, but I still had no power over it)

Follow the signs to ground transportation. Can't figure out the morass of options, decide it's better to go have a cigarette and think with a nicotene-addled brain instead.

Back in the ground transportation area. Still confused. Wander up to something approximating an information desk, explain that I'm unfamiliar with the area, say the hotel name, ask if they can direct me the right way. They grab a postcard off a stack on the counter and say "This is the company you need, but you need to walk back to the terminal. Go out this door, turn right, walk down a ways, cross the street, go back into the terminal, and find their ticketing desk."

So I do.

Buy a ticket for the shuttle. Walk back out to the curb where the pickup should be. Guy there says that he's only serving the north hotels, but the other guy should be along in a few minutes. Decide to have a cigarette while waiting. Original shuttle guy announces other driver is taking too long, says he'll take the few of us stragglers.

Traffic.

Three stops and an hour and a half since deplaning, the shuttle deposits me in front of my hotel. I fetch my luggage and tip the driver, and run into previously mentioned friend on his egress. Check in, drop my bags off, and head back out to the front of the hotel.

Thus ends the first leg of my vacation, day 0.5