As I type this, I am at Charlotte Douglas International Airport hearing the deep cough of a man I am 92% sure has some form of contagious respiratory infection. Am I concerned? Possibly. Should I move? Definitely. Am I going to? Nah...I already have my butt firmly planted in one of the extra wide leather seats (Why do they provide extra wide leather seats while waiting for a plane? It only causes major disappointment when you get on the actual plane and you have roughly a centimeter between you and your coughing neighbor...) and I'm too darn lazy to move. There is also a smell wafting through the air that is a combination of body odor and Bojangles. Of course, that smell is pretty much standard at this airport, so there really is no avoiding it.
Yesterday there was a picture on Facebook posted by Thomas. It was of the security line at the airport. To be perfectly honest, it scared me just a little bit. It looked as if the line stretched on for miles and I thought that possibly I should get here 3 hours early for my flight to Boston. Do you want to guess how long it took me to get through security and to my gate? Eight minutes. Eight. Do you know what that makes you? Lucky. (I know you're wondering why you're lucky. You are lucky because now you have a blog to read. See? Lucky you.)
As I'm typing this, I can't help but get distracted by my shoes. Why my shoes? (And why am I asking so many questions in this blog? I don't know...) Because the moment I walked into Chris' apartment to have him drive me to the airport he said, "Ummm...what are those?"
When I explained that they are my work flats that I don't wear anymore and I needed to wear flats when I wasn't sure how much walking would be done in Boston, he replied with, "Oh." and then later, "Make sure you burn those after your trip. Okay...maybe not burn them, someone will need them. Give them to a homeless person or something."
So here I am, writing a completely random blog, staring at my shoes that someone on this earth believes should be burned, and listening to a hacking cough. What could be better? Not much...I'll tell you that. Oh no...it does get better. I had my purse sitting on the seat next to me and someone just asked if someone was sitting there (yes, my purse thankyouverymuch). I moved it and guess who decided to start chomping ice. Classic.
I honestly didn't mean to type out a complaint blog. My bad.
But seriously...are they going to let this coughing guy board the plane? Thank God I got my swine flu shot.