Finally, everything was packed and it was only 11:33 p.m. I was going to enjoy a solid 5 1/2 hours of sleep, give or take the requisite 10 minutes of snooze. Did I say everything was packed? Drifting off I drowsily remembered that the "everything" excluded all that I would be using in the morning plus the suitcase locks, my sunglasses, the magnifying mirror, and the....
Music faint in my ears, husband rolls over and hugs me. I am cozy and ever so sleepy. Intruding, nagging thoughts that something is supposed to be done this morning...
AAAAAH! I jump awake but can't focus. My eyelids are stuck to my contacts. "What time is it? What time is it?" I demand of my husband. "It's 6:09." He replies.
"WHAT?! I have to be there at 6:45 and still have to shower, wash and dry my hair, finish packing, drink some coffee!"
"That's why I'm waking you up now."
But I didn't hear him, I was in the shower, halfway through washing my hair. (Cue music to Mission Impossible)
Twenty-seven, that's 27, or 2-7, minutes later, in the car with husband making tracks for the airport shuttle van. We arrived at 6:46, only one minute past the intended time but there was still a backseat available into which I plopped my non-caffeinated self. Atlanta Hartsfield has a Starbucks I kept telling myself.
But all the way there I remembered the part of everything that had not been packed.
To be continued...