My day started at 3:45am when I almost fell back asleep in the shower. Somethings are just inevitable. I can sleep anywhere at that ridiculous hour; anything can happen at 3:45am.
Please note: that was 345am EST. Yes, eastern time.
I was on my first airplane by 7:15am and landed in Arizona at 9am local time.
Easy, right? Wrong.
My next flight supposedly would cart me off to Vancouver at 10:30am, but by 10:10am I was informed that no seats were available and I’d not be going anywhere until 830pm, at the earliest.
Enter the best hostess ever. And the most flexible. And most helpful.
Armed with car seats, sippy cups, and snacks, Sherri transported me to and from the airport FOUR TIMES in the course of the next twenty-four hours. FOUR.
I didn’t make the 830 flight.
Groaned and moaned after being awake for twenty bazillion hours.
Used a toothbrush for the first time in an eternity, thanks to a well-stocked hostess. (The airline made me check my carry on in Charlotte. Silly airline.)
Slept on the most comfortable mattress ever.
Went back for the 1030am flight.
FINALLY got a seat.
But those twenty-four hours in Phoenix weren’t wasted. I got to hang out with a dearest of friends, photograph her adorable son, interrupt their family life, and bask in sunshine and palm trees.
In fact, those twenty four hours were some of the best of my journey across the country.
Detours are fun. And memorable. And full of life lessons.
(To be continued….)