Monday, July 11, 2011

I'm not even bringing my B game today

I am exhausted today.  Apparently, I am a travel jinx.  Friday night, I met Laura at the airport for our 6pm flight to Boston for my SIL's baby shower in Maine the next day.  Our flight was delayed till 7. Then 8:30.  Then 9.  And when the board was threatening to put an even later number up there, I spoke with customer service, got myself on a flight the next morning, and got Nate to pick us up so I could put my patient toddler to bed.

Saturday morning, we woke up at 4:30 to get to the airport for a 6am flight.  I had to negotiate with Nate to drop us at the airport, rather than have me drive, park, take the bus with Laura two bags and a stroller, and then get through security.  I won.  The flight was fine, but we then spent two and a half hours in the car driving to Maine.  A lovely shower with lovely cake, and then another drive back to Boston.  Where my dad accidentally drove 20 minutes NORTH instead of south, so 40 minutes out of the way.  And meanwhile, Laura decided to be a little constipated and grumpy.

Yesterday, we had a leisurely day of pancakes and petting zoos before heading back to the airport for our 5pm flight.  You guessed it!  We were delayed!  When the man came over the speaker, I started sobbing.  In the middle of the crowded terminal.  I got myself somewhat put together, gathered Laura and our bags, and shuffled back through security so we could SIT at a restaurant to be served some food.  I really wanted a beer.  But I also had a raging bloat tummy ache, the shakes from Zoloft withdrawal (cuz I quit it) and a toddler who would NOT stop crawling on me.  So I just got a water.  And french fries. 

We finally got home last night around 9:30, after I may have cried a second time mid-flight when Laura started getting really frustrated with the tight quarters.  Traveling is a bitch.  Laura went straight to bed, which sounded like a really nice place to be.  But I stayed up getting Laura packed for school today. 

So it's Monday again.  I'm exhausted, cranky, bloated (too much ice cream), twitching like a grasshopper (do they twitch?), and ready to burst into tears.  My coworker I hate just got in, after a (beautifully quiet) week off from work.  I can't have coffee because the thought of dairy makes me want to hurl, but I can't keep my eyes open.  Why did I wear contacts today?  Oh yeah, because I'm an idiot.

Morals of this story:
- Get toddler her own seat next time we fly without Daddy.
- Wear glasses when tired.
- Zoloft withdrawal makes me feel like I should be in rehab.
- People who are lactose intolerant should not have ice cream for dinner every day for a week.
- My pants don't fit from the bloat.
- I won't be eating ice cream this week.  If I'm smart.  Which I'm not.
- I haven't had a drink in over a week.  It's like I'm practicing for pregnancy.
- I have two pills left in my packet.  And then that's it.
- Prenatal vitamins give me heartburn.  This doesn't bode well.
- I'm exhausted.
- I hate my coworker.
- I hate her even more because I can smell her delicious coffee.
- Sometimes I cry in airports.
- I ramble.