I never made it home last night. After five hours in the Portland airport, we finally left for Chicago (my layover before my final destination of Baltimore). The first flight was running late. But they said that would be okay. They told me they would reroute me to another flight if I wouldn't make my connection.
They didn't. So, I didn't.
I missed my connection by one hour after traveling for 12 hours. Then, they told me they would have someone at the gate to help me get on a new flight. They didn't. But, they did have another line to wait in. So, I went there at 11 p.m.-ish.
They told me they would put me in a hotel and that I could come back in three hours for a 5:30 a.m. flight. They told me I could get my bag first if I went to the baggage claim line. I went. But, after waiting there for nearly an hour, they told me they could get my bag in two to four HOURS.
Since I had to be back to the airport in three hours, I decided against it.
I left for the hotel. They told me to go out the "middle door" to find the airport hotel shuttle which was waiting. Forty-five minutes later a small little bus arrived. By then the passenger line was very long.
A few minutes earlier, the flight crew from one of the flights cut in line from the other side. When the shuttle finally arrived, they jumped in front of everyone and took all the seats, save one. One lone flight crew member asked me if I wanted it, since I was at the front of the line. I told him "no, thank you." I'd wait with the other passengers for the next shuttle. I asked him to tell his colleagues how disappointing it was to see them cut in line and leave all their customers waiting by the curb. Especially since there was a poor woman waiting in a wheelchair right in front with me.
He said something like, "Well, that isn't my fault is it?"
But he still got on that first shuttle. And the woman in the wheelchair and I waited by the curb with all the rest of the passengers.
Before he left with the self-important flight crew, the shuttle driver stepped out to tell us that a second shuttle was five minutes away. Twenty minutes later, our shuttle pulled away to take us to our hotel.
Which, they said was one minute away. A half hour later we arrived.
Then, I went to my room to make sure we were all set for my virtual Summer Camp launch today. But, it turns out that the totally weird kink with my email program that started at the airport in Portland wasn't a fluke afterall.
I called my service provider. They said they'd fix it in a couple of minutes. Two hours later they accidentally hung up on me.
I called back. Got someone more skilled that time. In five minutes he said my email program was corrupted. He said I could go online and download it again. So, I did that. But it was a four-hour download, and now I had to leave for the airport in 45 minutes.
So, I went to sleep.
Did I mention that when I got to the hotel my dress broke?
That's right. And I'm wearing a two-strap sundress. The right strap broke. So I knotted the two ends together, put on my denim jacket, and pretended like I meant to be dressed with all my clothes falling off. Which is, by the way, a great look when you're 51.
Besides, even if I had waited for my luggage, I would have still had an hour to go.
I slept for 30 minutes and then the alarm went off. I grabbed another 10 to torture myself.
Then, I downed two Tic Tacs and checked out of the hotel.
I'm on the "short" little shuttle ride back to the airport. I'm supposed to catch my flight in an hour and a half. They told me to be back two hours before my flight, but the earliest shuttle they had back to the airport was this one. So, I can only be there 90 minutes early.
I sent a text to my assistant so she can be aware that my email program has corrupted and that I am still stranded a thousand miles or so from home.
But, I'm making my way. Because in seven hours, I'm launching a virtual Summer Camp for my clients called "Declusterfuckify Your Life."
And that is as ironic as hell.
Note: This is kind of funny, but I wrote a book about overcoming obstacles. Please read it and remind me of what I said to do in these kind of situations. Go here to get your copy of my book, Breakthrough. It's free. Because you're priceless.
Earlier on Huff/Post50:
