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Trip Home On Sunday

Waiting to board in Tampa.


On my plane to Peoria waiting to get someone to load the bags.


Flying out of Chicago toward the end of my adventure in Peoria.


Escorted by Mackenzie, Brendan, Nancy and the grandkidlings, I left Tampa and went to Chicago O'Hare and then down to Peoria. We were, of course, delayed by an hour and 45 minutes from Tampa because the plane taking us didn't arrive till late and then they had to check a problem with one of the wheels.
Finally leaving, I was kind of happy because there wasn't anyone in the middle seat. However, there was a real jerk in the same seating section as me. First, he refused to hang up his phone even after a flight attendant told him it should have already been off. Very important call he said to her, and what was he talking about? His cold and congestion! Then after we got going his overhead light tended to blink out and he became more agitated. He'd flick the light, knock on it and make harrumphing noises. The idiot didn't realize that all he had to do was flip on the middle light and that would have been enough to see what he was doing. God what a creep.
Anyway because of the lateness of our departure it ate up any leeway I had to catch my Peoria plane. Because I had already missed 2 of 3 busiest Fed Ex days at Blick, it was imperative I make it back to work at 9:00 the next morning.
Finally landing in Chicago, I looked at the departures and noticed I had to go to Concourse F from Concourse C. That is no small feat in 15 minutes. Imagine this old guy running around O'Hare with a rather sizeable carry-on, with the wrong kind of shoes, and only minutes to get there.
Finally, I found my gate with about 2 minutes to spare, sweat coming down my forehead, panting like a dog, and someone says, "Peoria?" I huff "Yes." and they say, better hurry, its leaving. So off to the gate I go, give them my boarding pass, and through a couple winding aisles, through a couple doors, and into the cold (I forgot my hoodie in Tampa, so I was cold, too). A person guides me to my plane and I climb aboard. And guess what? We were delayed by 45 minutes. Couldn't find anyone to put the baggage in the plane. Made it to Peoria, and was told by my ride (thanks again Pat) that my truck wouldn't start. There is a picture of the cart with the bags sitting on the tarmac above. Traveling is a lot of fun!

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