I’m here in San Diego Airport waiting for a plane that’s going to be 38 minutes late. WTF? I hold up on my end of the bargain and show up on time. Maybe next time I’ll be the one 38 minutes late. See how they like it. Trust me, I busted my ass getting here on time. A quick rewind:
Sunday morning: I position myself in front of my desktop, cup of Irish breakfast tea. Time to start preparing for my Pittsburgh trip later in the week. Leisurely I dial up my Travelocity itinerary. Something about my flight leaving 06/06. That can’t be right. That’s tomorrow.
Can’t be. I must have booked it wrong. I’m supposed to be attending the 9th International Bipolar Conference in Pittsburgh starting - let’s see - the 9th. And a family stopover before hand, let’s see ...
Nothing to worry about. Three days of work to do in one day, no big deal, if I give my laundry a miss. What the hell, clean underwear is over-rated, anyway.
Monday 1 AM: I kind of have everything packed. Biggest strategic decision - do I bring my didgeridoo? Is a bear Catholic? Next biggest strategic decision - what do I forget to bring this time? My horse collar travel pillow? A cable to one of my zillion electronic devices? I know - the earbuds to my iPod.
Monday 6 AM: Note to self - shaving in this particular state of pre-coffeeness is not such a good idea.
Monday 7:30 AM: I’m outta here.
Monday 8:30 AM: Why do all the people on the parking shuttle have green complexions? Shit! I left my real glasses in my car. I scramble to correct the situation. Situation corrected. Complexions normal.
Monday 10 AM: Through security, through mandatory news store stop (ha! no travel pillow purchase this time, ah! earbuds), through breakfast (yay! a new Jamba Juice concession). Engage earbuds, chamber music, ahhh ...
This is John McManamy, live on the road ...