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Yesterday and Today

I�m at O�hare wasting away yet another few precious hours of my life. Tomorrow, I will drag myself out of bed in time to show up to the office for a couple of meetings. I feel like absolute shit and the rattling in my chest seems to be increasing in frequency rather than decreasing. That combined with a stiff neck, shaking hands and an upset stomach won�t keep me home tomorrow morning. I�m truly a sadistic bee-yotch.

It is nearing 9:00 pm in Chi-town. My flight doesn�t leave until 9:24 pm. My body thinks its 10:00 pm, and in the world of normal, I watch the news just until Slezak shows his ugly face to hype up the weather, and then I go to bed. I should be going to bed now. Not getting on a plane to fly an hour and a half only to get on a shuttle for 15 minutes and then only to get in a freezing cold car and drive for another 30 minutes. I�m quite positive that my head won�t hit my pillow until after midnight. I�ve been up since 5:30 am CST. I hate it. Did I mention my hands are shaking? Stupid nerves in my stupid back. Stupid airline for not scheduling a more convenient flight schedule. Stupid job for running me ragged. Oh well, at least I�ve racked up a few miles and hotel points that will equate to a precious few moments on a beach in another three years. Hate it.

I read two entire books during my flights. For some reason, the airline I was on decided it was more fun to park their planes on the damn runway rather than at a damn gate. After the joy that was last night�s extra two hours in an uncomfortable seat, I had a similar experience on my flight in from Boston. If those fuckers can�t pull up to the gate in KC, I swear I�ll hit the emergency exit, slide down the inflatable slide and walk across the runway to the Slightly Better Than Economy parking lot. It would probably be faster than waiting for the damn shuttle, and that�s even factoring in being tackled by four beefed up off-duty police officers hanging around the airport to make a few extra bucks.

It was interesting to see the fifth worst blizzard in Boston history. I know that it was the fifth worst because Sleezak�s slimy counterpart in Boston had some lackey make him a lovely info-graphic stating that fact. There was snow piled up everywhere and at least an inch of standing water in the floorboards of my cab. Lovely.

*** That was written last night at O�Hare. As predicted, I did not get to sleep until after midnight, and I am sitting at work right now, dog ass tired. I want to go home and watch that Harold and Kumar movie that needs to be returned at some point to Rockruster. I�m not exactly sure when due to their new no late fees policy, but I�m quite positive that they will manage to fuck me with some fine print somehow. I�m just sure of it. They have my credit card number and aren�t afraid to use it. Punks. I think I�m going to sync up my laptop and head home where I�ll pretend to work (aka sleep).

By the way, it is wedding shit Wednesday and still no photos and no ring for Ryan. Bastards! Someone is turning the Phucktographer into one of those local news solve your problems type teams. I was asked to participate, but I refused. Late pictures are better than no pictures.

1:18 p.m. - January 26, 2005

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