Horror

So yesterday I flew home from Chicago. I had an amazing weekend and will show you all a few pic's and tell you about my actual trip tomorrow or Wednesday. I haven't had a chance to load the pictures off my camera, but I will eventually get them up. But for today I want to tell you a little story about me being the biggest idiot in the traveling world.

My flight was leaving Chicago yesterday at 4:30. Nancy dropped me off at 3:30 and I was out of security and ready to head to my gate by 3:50. I check the flight boards, flight is on time, gate is B17. I meander down to that concourse, in no big rush. But I get there, and the flight isn't my flight. Hmmm....I am now confused. I look at another board near B17 and now see that my flight is at A9. WHAT THE HELL? Thank god I am early, right? I mean, to just change the gate 30 minutes before the flight...super strange. I also take note that the plane is running a little late. The time has changed from 4:30 to 4:40. I call Nick with this info and head on over to concourse A.

I get to A9 and see the line of stand-by people at the desk. I just ignore it and find my seat. Positive they won't switch my flight location again. I eat some popcorn, I read my book. I am just relaxing. Clearly a world traveler who can completely handle flying alone.

Then they get on the intercom. They start saying something about Panama City....about the plane being full...about starting to load. I get really confused. I look at my cell phone, it's 4:25, shouldn't they be loading MY plane?? I get a bad feeling. A very bad feeling. I walk over to the desk, yes, they are flying to Panama City. I run to the board of flights, there it is, my flight, A9...but then I see it. ARRIVALS. I am looking at the flight coming IN from my town, not the flight going TO my town. HORROR!

SO....I find my flight on the DEPARTURE list...and there it is, in concourse B...and it says BOARDING beside it...because of course it is running on time for it's 4:30 departure. And I am in CONCOURSE A. Like, completely across the airport from concourse B. So I run you all. I run like I haven't run since my middle school track days. I sprint through the airport, running down the moving side walks, flying past people screaming, "excuse me! " as I pass by. I get to B17, beg to get on the plane, and he looks at me confused. That flight is at B10. WHAT?!?! I passed B10 like three minutes ago!! I turn around and RUUUNN. You all, I cannot even begin to describe the panic.

So I get to B10 and it is 4:33, and the plane is loaded. I beg to get on, and they have to see if the doors to the plane are closed. They go down and look, no they haven't shut them yet. But the plane is full. They had given my seat to a stand by passenger. THEY GAVE MY SEAT AWAY. And I had to be like, well...I have a ticket...and they were like, ok, we will PULL HER OFF THE PLANE. And they did you all, they pulled the poor girl out of my seat and I stumbled onto the plane, near an asthma attack, covered in sweat, and climbed into the one newly empty seat on the plane.

*HORROR*

Nick did park the car and come in and actually surprise me at the security gate. That was really nice :). He doesn't mind that his wife is a total idiot.

My legs are so sore today from my sprint.