Disaster in Murr-land.. Monday!
SURPRISE BISHES! (you weren’t expecting it!) a Festivus Miracle! now let’s air a grievance..
Please read “Sunday” (part 4) before “Monday” (part 5) don’t be confused please!
Alright, let’s end this sh*t….
sidebar: over the weekend, I was listening to the Wale mixtape..and I realized that there’s a certain regional accent that makes some people pronounce the state “Murr-land”.. he reminded me of the way this dude talks.. I can’t listen to some of his songs.. #ThatIsAll
It’s MONDAY!! I’m so excited I could birth a baby right there in the living room. It’s about 9 o’clock in the morning. The sooner I wake up, the sooner I can start this day and have this horror from hell over with. I’m moving around the house like a chicken with it’s head cut off. “Excited” isn’t even the word to describe it. I can’t contain myself. There’s only one problem..
My flight doesn’t leave til 7 pm..
ARGH! When I was booking the ticket I said that if anything, I could spend the early part of the day doing some last minute things. NOW, all I want to do is stitch together some Icarus wings and fly myself home. Whatever will get me out of this place earlier than 7 pm. I will pretend to be Nike and “swoosh” myself on outta here. But D*MN if it isn’t so early in the morning. Really, can I do ANYTHING to make this morning go by a little bit faster?
I jump in the shower and take a R-E-A-L-L-Y long time. I come out.
UGH! “F*CK MEE!”
I pack up the last of my things (you know, the things that are the last to get packed because you used them that morning.) and when I’m done, I sit on the edge of the bed and watch tv for about half an hour.
10:15. (looks Heaven-ward. “Really God? REALLY!?“)
I walk out into the living room and come back in the room and say
“I was wondering if you could swing me by that mall we went to yesterday, I would like to get some more of those cookies.”
He looks at me and goes “Nah, I don’t really wanna go in that direction.”
(I blink my eyes incredulously, because the mall was 12 minutes away, doesn’t matter what d*mn direction)
This was IT!
“Alright then, I’m ready to leave.”
“Now?” (looks over at clock, it reads 10:22)
“Yes, NOW! I need to get outta here. This is some bullsh*t!”
He gets dressed and we get in the car.
Not ONE WORD is spoken between us on the whole ride to the airport. There’s nothing to be said. For once, I don’t fall asleep on the Sleepy Street. I’m quietly thinking about mystical, magical ways to slice this fool’s tires when I get my suitcase out of the trunk. How can I find an empty beer bottle on the side of the road to smash him over the head with. You REALLY couldn’t take me by the mall to go and get cookies. REALLY!? THAT WAS SO HARD!? Selfish Gaylord Falker! (these are all the things I’m thinking in my head.) If he did 100 mph, we still wouldn’t have gotten to that airport fast enough. My foot is shaking because I’m so impatient to be rid of this dude. He’s off my facebook page before I even get to the airport. (Because THAT showed him!)
We pull up, and before he could even come to a full stop, I jump out that bish like a Charlie’s Angel. I yank my suitcase out of the trunk and turn around and walk in.
It’s 11- something
I walk up to the check-in counter and say something like
“I know I’m early, but I have a flight at 7-something tonight and I was wondering if I could check my bag before the big rush?
He glances at his watch “well, you’re a little early.”
“Yes, I’m aware. I HAD to get away from my weekend host. Trust me, I would’ve been here last night if I had the opportunity. I don’t want to walk around this airport for 7 hours with my suitcase.”
This makes him laugh
“I can check it in. There’s even a possibility I can get you on an earlier flight.”
My eyes go BIG O_O
“That would be great.”
He explains some other basic things and I give him my bag. I see him laughing at me because the state I was in was like a tomboy, frazzled version of when Carrie broke up with “The Russian” on Sex and the City and she had to get her own room in the swank Paris hotel. (please refer to last episode for the clip, I’m too lazy to put one here.) Long winded example, but some of you will know what I mean.
I take my carry-on and wander the airport. I’m trying to read, text, get cozy in my chair, sleep, EVERYTHING to pass the time and it’s not happening. Every time I hear that a flight for Ft. Lauderdale is boarding, I listen out for my name to be called as one the stand-bys that gets to go home early. Alas, it doesn’t happen.
I get something to eat and wander from terminal to terminal. Watching people disembark (?) and board. Hoping for someone to talk to but fine with the face that there’s no one around. I’m happy to have finally gotten some breathing room. Away from Mr “let me be your wedgie cuz I’m all up your ass”
Hours come and go..
My earlier flight doesn’t happen. It seems that I will be flying at night (which I hate). I board and I’m so amped about finally going home that I don’t even get nervous when the plane takes off. “Fly BITCH, FLY!!” is all I can think.
I have a layover in Atlanta (which I hate) and see that there’s a thunderstorm outside. My flight is delayed. *WAIL*
“WHYYYYY can’t I just get hoooome!!???
We get on the next plane (FINALLY) and my excitement knows no level. Until we catch turbulence mid-flight. The girl who was just telling me “it’s alright” when the turbulence was a minor jook, is now clutching my hand as the turbulence “sees your ‘jook’ and raises you a ‘bob and weave'” Honestly I’m not sure the last time I had turbulence that bad. I’m thinking “Great! I just had the worst trip ever then get on the plane and have to die.”
I’m the loudest clapper in the whole cabin.
I don’t even want my bags at this point. I text my ride and tell him I’ve landed. He’s at my house catching a few zzz’s because he couldn’t wait up anymore after my flight got delayed. It’s now 1 in the morning. (remember, my flight was at 7) and I’ve been up since 9.
I come outside into the glorious stench and heat that is Ft. Lauderdale. It’s so humid I can’t stand it. I feel like I’m breathing through a napkin and I don’t care. My hair is pullin a Tina Turner from the humidity and I DOUBLE don’t care..
The car pulls up and he gets out. He comes over to me and picks up my bag. I get inside.
He wants to talk, I don’t.
I lean back against the leather and take several long breaths.
We get back to my house and he’s walking me inside. After he sets my bag down he looks at me and goes “Now?” and opens his arms.
“Yeah” and I walk into them. The arms close around me and I feel a squeeze.
“I sorta missed you.” (such a romantic. *rolls-eyes*)
“I would’ve missed me too.”
I get out of the bear hug and go to take a shower.
And I wash the funk of Murr-land off of me…..
(thanks for staying with me while I pumped this out..)
Love you all..