****at the airport with no internet service****
It's 3:34am. My ears hurt from having the earphones on too long. In about a half an hour the little kiosks will hopefully open up and we can check in for our flight to Peoria. I miss staying up all night, not in the, “Gee, I wish I could do this more often” way, but after doing it I think “Oh yeah, this is what it feels like” and I look back at those painful college memories in the architecture lab with fondness, or maybe I'm just tired.
Instead of trying to sneak in a few hours of sleep and then getting dropped off at the airport at an ungodly hour, we opted for the drop-us-off-now package which includes relentless artificial lighting and the occasional tile Zamboni. I seem to have survived. Tina's out cold with the old sweatshirt on the suitcase move, curse these bench-like-torture machines and their immovable arm rests. Whoever invented these should be forced to sleep on them. Hasn't anyone in airport design been to a movie? Lift-able armrests for the love of the crick in my neck.
And in come the airport staff, what a chipper bunch. I can't feel my legs.
I'm eagerly looking forward to the other side of this flight. It's the Loveridge's in Illinois part 2, our own little summer of sequels, our first trip out was during last Christmas. We'll see if I can't improve my score on the disc golf course.
More to post later, let's go see if those kiosks are up and running yet...
2 comments:
I think they're not lift-able because they don't want you to sleep on them. Just saying.
You should have gone all Tom Hanks in that lame-a$$ Terminal movie on the place...
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