My flight has changed gates four times now, including twice to completely different terminals, most recently after the Airbus that was supposed to take me back to Boston had a broken valve.
Remember what I said “yesterday” about this experience being “a little more plesant”? Fuck that, this sucks. I want to go home. I hate this airport so much. The first terminal change was announced, several of us thought, as “Terminal B as in ‘baby’” and as we followed the signs for Terminal B, we suddenly found ourselves upon signs that said it was now behind us. We were finally able to find a helpful airport employee who told us that Terminal B doesn’t exist. This came as a bit of a shock, as every goddamn sign in the place mentions Terminal B, and the woman had said so. Or so we thought. As it turns out, the woman in had said, in her thick Latina accent, “Terminal D as in ‘David’”. At least five of us were walking together — including two women who had been up since 4 am and flying in from Lima, Peru — and we’ve formed a bond in our shared sufferring.
It is now past midnight, and I’ve now been to in my two trips here to terminals A, C, D, and F. Apparently they go up to H, but who knows if that’s true… the signs say there’s a Terminal B after all.
We’re waiting in a long line at this new gate to get on a new plane, a 767 I think. Because the seating layout is different from the Airbus we all have to be reseated. There are about 100 people in line ahead of me. If we left right now, we’d get to Boston about 3 am. At the other gate they had started offering hotel vouchers, but I really wanted to sleep in my own bed, and besides the weather is supposed to be bad in Boston tomorrow and I really need to get back to work.
(Later) Got home last night at 4 am. They started boarding before they had checked everyone in with the end result that we sat on the plane for a good 45 minutes before everyone was onboard. I slept most of the flight, completely missing takeoff. The landing in Boston was pretty interesting… snow was falling pretty heavily and the runway was covered in it. As we descended either the clouds were pretty low or there was a lot of snow because I could barely see the end of the wing. We bounced a couple of times but landed safely. I was so tired that I failed to recognize my street in the taxi and we passed it.
I’ve been reading David MuCollough’s 1000-page behemoth biography of Harry Truman, which I am quite enjoying. I noticed that all told I read about 250 pages yesterday.
A little later today while it was pouring rain and I was shoveling the slush from the sidewalk, my feet soaking wet from the pools of standing water and the feeling missing from my fingertips, I had to whip out my cell phone and text Nat, “Here I am shovelling slush from the walk and just yesterday I was barefoot on the beach.”
I promise tomorrow I will be in better spirits.