Today I heard someone say that anger is the flip side of fear.
The dark side if the moon just seems more interesting.
Apparently, I’m terrified by my neighbor’s dachsund. Its incessant barking has my fear (of jail) factor maxed out.
My current Amazon wishlist includes, but is not limited to: a grappling hook, a Catwoman costume with a toolbelt, a dog whistle, MacGyver’s field guide to demolition with baling wire, duct tape, & WD-40, and a copy of Caddyshack (an exposition of futility when dealing with bad neighbors).
Lucky for us all that my daughter is smarter than me. I have 2 words for her strategy:
After 2 (two, T-W-O, more than 1) 3-hour layovers (love you, IAH for your work friendly gates; DEN, you and your Broncos can get bucked) culminating in a thrilling attempted mass murder landing in 60 knot winds, we diverted to Fresno.
Where I waited an hour and a half not to get my luggage before booking a hotel that looked close to the airport. The immigrant Lyft driver had been in the country for 8 weeks and when his 2nd question was about my marital status, I assumed that I had escaped a fiery death only to die at the hands of human traffickers.
(Spoiler alert: I survive the ride without incident).
Because booking rooms at midnight is tricksy, I booked a non-cancellable, non-refundable room for the following night AND the hotel is FULLfor thisnight.
I only imagined getting womannapped. The rest of this tale is the unvarnishedtruth.
But the woman at the counter saw the crazy coming to the surface took pity on me and let me have a room. And a beer becauae my melatonin was locked up at the UA counter.
And I got 4 semi-glorious hours of sleep before I got up at 4 am to get to the airport 2 hours before my 7 am flight. Whereupon I got to the airport to find no flights to MRY from Fresno at 7 am.
If you ever need reminding of how little control we have over our lives, come travel with me.
This morning I was working on my job market presentation aka The Antique’s Roadshow when my tablet spazzed out.
I quelled my freakout with some plain, unsalted, multiseed crackers, which is the only thing resembling a carb in my post-Apocalyptic pantry (Yes, there’s Nutella in there, but I refuse to try it for the same reasons I don’t try heroin or base jumping– Leah will kill me).
I truly want to do my best flying squirrel imitation, but I may need to wait until I’m older and have less sense.
After a quick reboot, everything was working just fine, except that when I searched for “Today is not that day,” I found out that Aragorn got it wrong.