Well, that was harrowing
Today, like many of my other days lately, was very full. I had work from 9-5, with a meeting with redheadedmuse stuck in during my lunch hour. Then I went home, took out the trash, turned on all the ceiling fans in the apartment so the cats wouldn't die of heat stroke while I was gone, and took off to drive to Providence, where I was to catch a flight to Chicago for the weekend. I drove Tish to Providence yesterday and found that leaving around 6:10 to get him to an 8:15 flight cut things rather too close for total comfort, (I left him at TF Green at 7:30 yesterday) what with rush hour traffic, so I according left house an extra half hour earlier, which I figured would also give me plenty of time to get badly needed gas.
Getting gas was by far the easiest part.
Traffic, as I told Tish when I called him as I began to get nervous, was sucking like a black hole. I was able to go no faster than 35 miles per hour for a good 70-80% of the trip. When I was still 40 miles away from the airport at 7:30 for my 8:15 flight I was sure I wasn't going to make it but determined to press on anyway because all other options were ridiculously expensive.
I parked the car, in a miraculously open spot very near the terminal, at 8:06pm. I sprinted to security, having already checked in online and printed my boarding pass. I was the ONLY person in the security line. I sprinted to my gate, and stepped actually onto the plane at 8:14pm. We were taxiing not 5 minutes later.
I never, ever want to do that again in my whole entire life.
But at the other end there was the boy, and his mother had a hot plate of amazing food waiting for me--filet mignon baked with mushrooms and pate in a puff pastry, with a creamy mushroom sauce and fresh steamed vegetables--followed by a hot shower.
And now cuddling and sleep, to allow me to recover from the exhaustion that happens after panic drains away.
Getting gas was by far the easiest part.
Traffic, as I told Tish when I called him as I began to get nervous, was sucking like a black hole. I was able to go no faster than 35 miles per hour for a good 70-80% of the trip. When I was still 40 miles away from the airport at 7:30 for my 8:15 flight I was sure I wasn't going to make it but determined to press on anyway because all other options were ridiculously expensive.
I parked the car, in a miraculously open spot very near the terminal, at 8:06pm. I sprinted to security, having already checked in online and printed my boarding pass. I was the ONLY person in the security line. I sprinted to my gate, and stepped actually onto the plane at 8:14pm. We were taxiing not 5 minutes later.
I never, ever want to do that again in my whole entire life.
But at the other end there was the boy, and his mother had a hot plate of amazing food waiting for me--filet mignon baked with mushrooms and pate in a puff pastry, with a creamy mushroom sauce and fresh steamed vegetables--followed by a hot shower.
And now cuddling and sleep, to allow me to recover from the exhaustion that happens after panic drains away.