March 2, 2015
You may have read my post from yesterday and wondered "what could be worse" than being stuck for a day in a hotel room in a strange city with a stack of grading accompanied by vomiting and diarrhea.
Well, of course, there are an infinite number of things that might be worse, including receiving a cancer diagnosis for your precious child and burying that child.
But if you want to keep the conversation within the same order of magnitude of misery and awfulness, here's what could be worse:
Finally boarding the plane home (wearing the clothes you slept in and sporting a hairdo that had not made contact with a hairbrush in longer than the average Jerry Lewis MDA telethon) flying to College Station and making the requisite 45 minute flight, only to hear the pilot's frustrated voice announcing that the visibility was too bad to land and the instruments to assist a blind landing were inoperable. . . and that we were flying back to Dallas.
Insert naughty words here: _______________________________.
The good news is that I made it home by 11:00 last night.
The bad news is that my suitcase didn't. Which would be okay, but I'm scheduled to leave again in less than 48 hours. This means that I will be chatting with baggage claims and bag status regularly until it turns up. Luckily, I have the airline 800 number memorized.