To the airline it means one more unsatisfied customer, but to me it means no loving time with lovely Felicia, no terminal fun with terminally fun Yeller, no 70 degree weather. No haircut. Tonight, feeling low, I hit the bottle.
Of bubble bath. Yet not even a sudsy, lukewarm dunk in a semi-clean tub could drown my sorrows. I miss you, Feleesh. Have fun, Agent Yellow.
I thought that maybe I would give up flying for Lent, but I've decided to instead give up flying for life.
In other news, tonight my mom gave me a recipe for a potato dish. During the course of our phone conversation, we had this exchange:
EFC: So, I am clear on everything except... what's a garlic mint?
EFC's Mom (unsuccessfully concealing pity)