Hang on folks, this is gonna be a bumpy ride.

So I'm already beat from two days of traveling but I have to get up at 3:45 am to head to the airport for the first freakin flight of the day to Houston (the actual flight number is "freakinHOU") for a meeting at 8 am.

I climb into bed after Big Daddy finally rises for work at 10:30 pm. (I rarely ever go into the bedroom in the evening. That would be like him creeping around at 4 am when I get up at 6 am.) And what time did I wake up for the airport?

No, I didn't wake up late and miss my flight.

I wake up at 2:30 am and can't get back to sleep!!!! (!!!!!!!!!!)

I putter about until its time to wake Big Princess at 4:15 am to drive me to the airport (cause I'm too cheap to pay $18/day for parking... and I refuse to drag my luggage the 5 miles between the parking lot and the terminal when I can force her to chauffer me).

We sit on the plane for an hour with electrical problems. I've consumed $32.77 worth of Starbuck's coffee and I refuse to crawl over everyone to pee on the plane but my leg is jumping like Mexican Jumping Beans. We finally take off and no sooner than we get in the air, the sky turns dark and its raining hard enough to raise zombies from their graves. The plane starts bouncing like crazy and the captain semi-shouts over the intercom for the wait staff, sorry, I mean flight attendents to sit down and buckle up. At one point we fall like 40 feet out of the sky and I yipe like a dog that's been kicked in the ribs. I'm starting to feel at little queasy and wonder if I've got a barf bag in my seat pocket. I look out my window to take my mind off my full bladder and bubbling stomach acid. I'm not sure if lightening struck the wing tip or just nearby but I'm blind for 3 minutes and during this time wonder if I will die blind in a puddle of vomit with pee pants.

We finally land in the land of stinky-water-vapor-for-air. I spend all day in a conference where it is so cold my nipples still hurt some 6 hours later. My boss then dumps me back at the airport at 3:15 pm, too late to catch the 3:30 back home. I check in and WHOA, I'm upgraded to Elite Status, thereby granting me the short line thru body cavity search security, the priviledge of sitting in the emergency exit row without paying my only good kidney for the extra 6 inches of leg room and allowing me to board prior to babies and old people in wheelchairs. I'm not sure what I've done to deserve this but finally, I'm going to travel in luxury. The down side? The next flight doesn't leave for 3 hours. Time to locate the closest alcohol depot to my gate.

As I'm walking the 22.5 miles to my gate, I pass the gate where the 3:30 flight home leaves from and I see the flight has been delayed until 4:30. Hmmmm, I wonder if it has any seats available. No harm in just checking, right?

I hear the two people ahead of me ask the very same thing. Oh, did I mention that the sky is black and its raining zombies? I ask the lady behind the counter if there's room for one more and she says, "Nope but you can probably get on... you'll have to go standby but with the weather, there should be seats available due to missed connections."

I take a seat and cross my fingers. My boss calls to tell me that if I run into problems, I should feel free to rent a car (one-way) and drive home or I can get a hotel and fly out tomorrow. Look, I'm too cheap to spend $18 of the company's money for one day's parking. I'd sleep in the terminal before taking either of those options. He suggests that I round up everyone headed the same direction that doesn't make the "standby cut" and charge them to ride home with me, thereby, possibly, making a profit. "Oh, like the company doesn't make enough money, now I'm supposed to pimp myself out to wayward travellers to cover the cost of a one-way rental car?"

I have to send the evil eye to the guy next to me who's crossing his fingers that his buddy's flight will arrive in time for him to make this flight. Its a race against time. "Please let this flight board before the guy can run the 26 mile marathon between terminals." I am the second to last person allowed to get onboard. The guy with the curse of the evil eye looks up when I bash him in the head with my laptop case as I come down the isle. "Hey, you made it. Congratulations."

Its another bumpy flight home. Wait, did I mention that the sky is blacker than black and its raining dead zombies? It wasn't as tramatic as the trip there but we did (seriously) bounce back into the air 3 times on the runway when we landed.

I promptly called my chauffer and demanded that she "get me the hell out of here."