Tuesday remains the worst day of the week. There are so many reasons why. Today all I wanted was for it to be Saturday so I could lay in bed until 9:30am, get up and move to the couch until noon, eat lunch, lay back down on the couch, and get up around 6pm frantic because I had done nothing all day and so do a mad sweep of my room and the house and collapse into bed around 9pm from my "exhausting" day. Doesn't that sound like it would have been fantastic today?
Instead, I present you with a "This could really only happen to me" story. I'm not a very good story teller, so this will likely be long-winded and not at all funny. It happens. So here it goes.
I went to Washington DC for Easter weekend. 2 of my best friends are there, and it just seemed fitting. My parents are staying in Florida until early May and well... I had nothing else to do here. To DC I went!
For some reason I booked a 7:30am Friday morning flight. Why I didn't fly out Thursday night will always be a mystery, especially now. So I haul myself out of bed after a wild night at the nearest Mexican joint with my best friend. And by wild night I mean we only ordered 1 queso and 1 guacamole instead of the usual 3 guacamoles. Split between 2 of us. Anyway.
Arrive at airport, wait a few minutes, all 11 passengers board the plane. At this point I'm convinced that God doesn't care about anyone on the plane and since it's not full clearly it's going down. I know, logic evades me at 7:30am. And most other times of day. So I get on the empty plane. Sit down in my lovely window seat that I hand-picked because the row was empty when I checked in online. MISTAKE NUMBER 1.