Forgive me for typos and stuff because I'm a little bit blitzed while writing this post. I just survived a day from hell.
Last week I get an email from one of the new employees asking if I minded going on a trip to a city in Northern BC. No, not Prince George. They're having some meetings there and they need us to be there but she's already booked for somewhere else.
I look at my calendar and have no good excuse for not going.
I woke up this morning crying because of a bad dream I couldn't remember. And that's when the day gets worse.
I pack and head to the airport. I can't find any of my toques. I swear someone at the optometrist's office stole my Oilers toque and I don't know where I put my DMB toque and it's -27 but feels like -40 and most heat escapes from your head and I have no toque. At YVR they just have Canuck toques and I'd rather die of double pneumonia than buy that.
I'm on an early flight, 10:55 am because at least if there are problems, I can't catch a later one. Two of my colleagues are on a later flight, I found out after.
So, I'm on this plane, and about 50 minutes outside of our destination they tell us we're turning around due to mechanical problems that were problems long before we took off. While we're still in the air the flight attendant tells us we can use our cellphones to call people if we want. Um...excuse me? Airlines are anal about turning your cellphone and blackberry off before even leaving the terminal. Here we are 40 minutes from landing and we can make phone calls? Red alarms are going off. Instead of phoning people about my impending death I emailed a friend of mine telling her if she doesn't hear from me within an hour to let my parents know.
My thinking is I wouldn't want to traumatize my Mom for the rest of her life, with me telling her my plane's going down and then the phone dying. She can get a phone call from a friend of mine and not live with the nightmares.
The phone gets safely to Vancouver and we're told the flight is now cancelled and go to gate B from all the way in Gate C. A long run. So you have 50 people now running to a different gate trying to get on the next flight. My colleagues are on that flight. I sat down and said, "If I don't get on this flight, I'm not going." I didn't want to sit around the airport until 7 pm at night to get there late and be up early for meetings. One of my colleagues volunteers to give up her seat to me and she'll just cancel as she'd rather stay anyway and I'm more "needed" at the meetings than she is. So we wait, I get on the plane.
Problem is, my luggage doesn't. I have my laptop, an ugly assed toque that I found before boarding the plane (no, not Canucks), a book, my cellphone and my blackberry.
What a clusterfuck. Words cannot adequately describe my day. I can only laugh about it. At least the hotel had my reservation.
Turns out there are a lot of single men up here. My colleague and I don't get to talk much with all my travelling and hers. So after the long day, we went down to the bar and had a few or ten drinks, double captain and coke for me please. We're sitting at the bar, solving all of the world's problems and the dude next to us starts talking to us.
Then we went out for dinner to continue the conversation and guys are coming up to us. Man, if I was desperate and didn't want to catch a flight here, I might be tempted.
My Dad thanked me for not phoning them in a panic to say goodbye I love you and screaming while my plane crashed. He said the Good Lord must be watching out for me.
You have no idea how comforting that is to hear because I took this all as a warning for deviant behaviour.
Oh yeah, I pakced my winter jacket in my suitcase so all I've had is my hoodie and a prayer that my lungs won't collapse.
You know you're in Northern BC when people leave their vehicles running outside the Boston Pizza.
After my Mom knew I was going to live she told me she doesn't want me travelling for the rest of the winter. I'm inclined to listen to her.
I'm supposed to get back on the plane tomorrow but I may stay another day just to get over the trauma that is today.
To think, I was supposed to go to Ottawa next week. I'm thinking...no.
Last week I get an email from one of the new employees asking if I minded going on a trip to a city in Northern BC. No, not Prince George. They're having some meetings there and they need us to be there but she's already booked for somewhere else.
I look at my calendar and have no good excuse for not going.
I woke up this morning crying because of a bad dream I couldn't remember. And that's when the day gets worse.
I pack and head to the airport. I can't find any of my toques. I swear someone at the optometrist's office stole my Oilers toque and I don't know where I put my DMB toque and it's -27 but feels like -40 and most heat escapes from your head and I have no toque. At YVR they just have Canuck toques and I'd rather die of double pneumonia than buy that.
I'm on an early flight, 10:55 am because at least if there are problems, I can't catch a later one. Two of my colleagues are on a later flight, I found out after.
So, I'm on this plane, and about 50 minutes outside of our destination they tell us we're turning around due to mechanical problems that were problems long before we took off. While we're still in the air the flight attendant tells us we can use our cellphones to call people if we want. Um...excuse me? Airlines are anal about turning your cellphone and blackberry off before even leaving the terminal. Here we are 40 minutes from landing and we can make phone calls? Red alarms are going off. Instead of phoning people about my impending death I emailed a friend of mine telling her if she doesn't hear from me within an hour to let my parents know.
My thinking is I wouldn't want to traumatize my Mom for the rest of her life, with me telling her my plane's going down and then the phone dying. She can get a phone call from a friend of mine and not live with the nightmares.
The phone gets safely to Vancouver and we're told the flight is now cancelled and go to gate B from all the way in Gate C. A long run. So you have 50 people now running to a different gate trying to get on the next flight. My colleagues are on that flight. I sat down and said, "If I don't get on this flight, I'm not going." I didn't want to sit around the airport until 7 pm at night to get there late and be up early for meetings. One of my colleagues volunteers to give up her seat to me and she'll just cancel as she'd rather stay anyway and I'm more "needed" at the meetings than she is. So we wait, I get on the plane.
Problem is, my luggage doesn't. I have my laptop, an ugly assed toque that I found before boarding the plane (no, not Canucks), a book, my cellphone and my blackberry.
What a clusterfuck. Words cannot adequately describe my day. I can only laugh about it. At least the hotel had my reservation.
Turns out there are a lot of single men up here. My colleague and I don't get to talk much with all my travelling and hers. So after the long day, we went down to the bar and had a few or ten drinks, double captain and coke for me please. We're sitting at the bar, solving all of the world's problems and the dude next to us starts talking to us.
Then we went out for dinner to continue the conversation and guys are coming up to us. Man, if I was desperate and didn't want to catch a flight here, I might be tempted.
My Dad thanked me for not phoning them in a panic to say goodbye I love you and screaming while my plane crashed. He said the Good Lord must be watching out for me.
You have no idea how comforting that is to hear because I took this all as a warning for deviant behaviour.
Oh yeah, I pakced my winter jacket in my suitcase so all I've had is my hoodie and a prayer that my lungs won't collapse.
You know you're in Northern BC when people leave their vehicles running outside the Boston Pizza.
After my Mom knew I was going to live she told me she doesn't want me travelling for the rest of the winter. I'm inclined to listen to her.
I'm supposed to get back on the plane tomorrow but I may stay another day just to get over the trauma that is today.
To think, I was supposed to go to Ottawa next week. I'm thinking...no.
Labels: Go Oilers Go, I love Ryan Smyth
About me
- Grace
- British Columbia, Canada
- jealous, insecure,narcissistic, paranoid, and delusional
- My profile