Today was the first day of the semester. I usually enjoy the holiday break thoroughly, but this one was an exception. While I won’t say I’m glad to be back to school, I am glad that the break is over. Why’s that, you ask?
Two mornings before Christmas one of my best friend’s lost her mother in a devastating house fire. When they called me at 5 AM all I could say was, “Oh, no.” I couldn’t sleep for the next several hours, and I couldn’t have felt any worse for my friend and her family. I was unable to attend the funeral because the lovely airline couldn’t change my fare for any less than 150% of the original cost of my ticket.
As you already know from a previous post, I flew to Vancouver and it took 16 hours. Again, Sixteen Hours. That trip shouldn’t take more than 8. Nevertheless, I made it and while somber from my close friend’s loss and being unable to attend the funeral, I was glad to have traveled safely and arrive in Canada.
Sometimes, like me, you might think, “the worst is over, it’s all down hill from here.” Well, it’s best not to be too hasty about that philosophy because about 3 days after I arrived in Canada I got ill and spent the rest of my stay on the couch. Headache, temperature of 101.3ºF, congestion, coughing, achy, miserable. That’s a fun holiday, no?
Things could only get better from here, right? Wrong. Marnie and I drove to Seattle for my return flight. Customs was a slight wait but we made it through without incident, and we made excellent time driving down to Seattle until a massive accident involving an accordion metro transit bus blocked up 2 of 4 lanes on I-5. Spending an hour to go about a mile is always fun. Okay, okay. That’s it, right?
After visiting some of my family in Seattle we headed back to the hotel directly across from the airport. This is a nice motel, one that whose name is three syllables and the first one was a popular adjective in the 80’s. The sleep number bed seemed nice, but why did the people next door keep fiddling with theirs and making the pump run. That’s what it sounded like, at least. Ahh… it was the elevator that was so loud, albeit 3 doors down and across the hall in a perpendicular hallway.
Then, the final cherry on the sundae, we walked down to the car the morning of my flight, and as we walk out into the parking lot there was no car. A mini-van was now parked where Marnie’s car had been parked last night. Stolen. That’s right. Stolen. More to come on that on Marnie’s blog soon. I understand there’s a multi-part handwritten post that was written as the events of that day unfolded, it just needs to be typed.
The holiday wasn’t a complete loss – it was good to see family and visiting Marnie again and I was totally spoiled in Canada. I suppose the moral of this story is: Life’s hard, get a cup. I’ll resume regular blogging soon, but that probably won’t happen until I kick this illness that’s still hanging on.