Since I had an early flight this morning, I gave myself an hour and a half to check in, get through security and find my gate. That's plenty of time, right?
Apparently not.
Fast forward through having to show three forms of I'D since I booked the flight under my maiden name. Fast forward through the 5 yr old who sat on my foot for 20 minutes while we waited in line for security. Fast forward through the strip, squat, shuffle, oh, AND the full body scan in order to get through the checkpoint. My flight was taking off in 5 minutes and I had to get clear across the terminal.
Apparently God wanted me on the flight too, because as I was half-running, half skipping through the airport, with ny carry on in one hand and my jacket on only half of my body, one of those golf cart shuttles came up and asked if I needed a ride.
"Never more in my life." I squeaked out while catching my breath."Thank you, thank you."
I gave him a $5. That was probably too much, but he literally saved my ass. I can't imagine what I would have done if I had missed my flight. Probably curl into a ball and cry.
The ticket clerk smiled, said "you just made it, take a deep breath" and helped me to my seat. By the time I sat down, we were starting our taxi to the runway. I seriously BARELY caught that plane.
Now I'm sitting here at O'Hare waiting for my connection to El Paso. I'm giddy like a school girl to see my husband. Next time, though, the trip could be just a little less exciting and I'd be OK.
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