Oh, FUHHHHH

Over the last couple weeks, a lot of people have been asking me when I fly back to Los Angeles. "My flight leaves at 7am on New Year's Day!" I tell them with a laugh. Pretty early turnaround from New Year's Eve, but hey, fuck it, cheap flight.

Here's my plan: party it up with joe, drunkenly make my way back to my dads, finish the last bit of packing, then sleep for a quick minute before my dad drives me to the airport at 5am. A good plan.

As my dad is driving me to the T, a thought passes through my head, a memory of a legend that should not he been forgotten (or however they say it in lord of the rings). The thought is of an email I got over a month ago about a schedule change regarding my flight...

Fuck. Am I remembering the old time or the new time? I quickly bring up the email on my iPhone, but Apple Mail refuses to load the part of the message with the actual information.

We get to the T, and I navigate through gmail while sitting down on my train. Just as the train begins it's long, unbroken journey from North Quincy to JFK, I see it: my flight leaves at 5:30 am. 7am is the time it arrives in Washington, D.C.

FUHHHHHHHH

It's already 10:30. The train goes on and on and on towards JFK. The longest unbroken stretch of t gives me time to hatch my plan.

It's 10;55. I'm back at my dads t stop, and he's giving me all my luggage.

It's 11:00. I get on the t, gotta make it to joes by midnight.