Travel Log – San Francisco to Manchester, N.H. (via Chicago)
4:15: Day begins with cell phone alarm reminding me that I have the very good intention of running before my 8 am flight. Serious miscalculation. Was clearly delusional when set it last night. Alarm is silenced.
5:45: Supershuttle arrives. Am first passenger picked up. Driver does not speak to me. There is no music. Embark on 45 minute tour de San Francisco picking up six other passengers across Russian Hill, North Beach and the Marina district. Even before 6 am I recognize the route makes absolutely no sense. Just zig zagging hills. Temper frustration. Drive in complete silence to SFO. The only time anyone utters a word is when I fall out of the van at the Southwest terminal. Then again, I am not actually sure chuckling counts.
8:50 – 11: 45: Attempts at sleeping during the first leg of the trip are thwarted by a toddler who threw a series of temper tantrums two rows ahead of me. Her parents do absolutely nothing to stop her. Consider locking the child in the bathroom for the duration of the flight. I think the other passengers are with me on this. But upon looking at the size of her parents I do nothing.
2:45 Chicago time: Arrive in Medway airport. Scrounge for food. Notice the healthy choice menu item at nearby cafe is labeled “Garbage Salad.” Eat really bad chicken sandwich at McDonalds instead. Try to put one last layer of fat on before touching down in Boston. Am regretting that decision now.
2:50 – 4:45: Bored. Email back and forth with Emily, work. People watch. Hello … Midwest cuties. Check Red Sox homepage. Discover negotiations with Teixeira appear to have imploded. Get angry. Get over it three minutes later. I love my team. I hate the new logo. Must email John Henry about this.
4:48: Crafting email to Red Sox front office while waiting to board …
5:50 – 7:30: Battery is near death on laptop. Still haven’t taken off due to snowstorm in N.H. Lost steam on Henry letter. Can’t find words to describe how much loath new logo. Now one hour late. Southwest staff has tried to placate me with tiny packages of peanuts and drinks. Damn. They know me so well. Text back and forth with parents keeping them abreast of flight info. Sort of. Mom and Dad are already at Manchester airport. And are upset. Turns out there is no bar there.
7:30 – 10: Alternate between reading and praying. Lots of turbulence during descent. Land safely. Entire plane cheers pilots for their skills (and balls) after roll/skid to a stop.
10:15 – Deplane to find Mom and Dad waiting for me with a bag of chocolate munchkins from Dunkin Donuts. It’s good to be home.