I say “last night” because the moment I realized I’d forgotten my shiny purple combination lock (that I bought the last time I went to San Diego, no less) at my apartment was the moment it all went down.
I didn’t get to sleep until 1:30 in the morning.
I got to O’Hare at 6:15, where the security line was absurdly long. It might as well have started in Indiana.
I waited in said line for probably 30 to 45 minutes. Then I hightailed it five miles (might as well have been) to gate H11A, where the pleasant (obviously lying here) American Airlines lady (bitch) scolded me for being late (the plane hadn’t fucking left yet!) and told me the next flight was at 11:56 and that she was putting me on standby.
All that excitement over my first “Priority Boarding” flight and my first redeemed-miles flight, and my flight out of this annoying-as-fuck city at-the-moment (Sox fan for life, no fucks for the Cubs), deflated and sucked out of me just like the soul was out of that American Airlines lady (bitch) in the Shakespearean era.
It is now 8:35, I have three hours to go, and all I want to do is get to the fucking beach. That, and some sleep. Ugh.