I'm safely in Maryland. I almost didn't make it. Here is a series of texts I sent Raina Rose yesterday explaining what happened.
(Note: if you're not into profanity, you should probably stop right here).
(I mean it)
Is it just us now? Ok, here goes:
Holy shit duderballs. (Edit: "duderballs" is my totally logical nickname for RR).
So I did a phone meeting with Mary and Ralph on my way to the airport. Left a little after 3 for a 5:35 pm flight. Got to the airport around 3:30, spent about half an hour trying to find the $7 parking (literally left the lot TWICE and had to re-enter; third time was the charm).
Found a spot, popped the trunk and hurriedly tried to consolidate bags, get some stuff from my Kerrville bag into my checked bag, etc. Reached for my purse to put my wallet in the outside pocket of my backpack and it wasn't there
Looked all over the car and realized that my purse was not there. Fuck.
Left airport. They tried to charge me $3 for 14 minutes of parking but I didn't have my wallet so that didn't work out for them.
Called Southwest on my way home. It's now about 4:30 pm. No flight options tonight or tomorrow that could get me there for less than $400 extra. Doris, the super sweet phone agent with what I swear was a German/Jamaican accent suggested that I try to make it home and back to the airport in the hour before my flight took off.
Drove home as quickly/safely as I could. Traffic back to the airport was not looking great. Got home, ran inside, couldn't find my purse. Anywhere.
IT WAS IN THE GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING FUCKING CAR
It was stuffed deep in my backpack. Where it should have been. I just didn't see it because I was, I don't know, in some kind of heat blackout or something.
Drove back to the airport. Miiiiiight have driven the last 1/2 mile on the shoulder. Parked in the first spot I could find in close in parking. 5:02 pm.
Quickly jettisoned anything that would have been in my checked bag. Carry-on only at this point. Ditched my toiletries and I don't know what else. Clothes were scattered across the trunk from the purse search; I just grabbed a few handfuls, shoved them in the bag and zipped it up.
Quickly realized, of course, that taking the first spot I found in close in parking meant it was the farthest from the entrance of the building.
Started off running but my guitar case kept hitting the back of my head so I had to switch to power walking, RR-style (which is arguably faster than I run).
Once I was on the WALKWAY TO TERMINAL inside the garage there was a pretty major slope and I briefly considered straddling my suitcase and rolling down the hill...
Decided that with the way my luck had been going so far that I shouldn't risk it.
Walked through front doors of Austin airport at 5:09 pm. Air conditioning felt great.
Thanks to the gods of the tiny Austin airport and the Southwest A-List baller line I made it through security fast and got to my gate AS they were boarding my section. Made it onboard at the tail end of A boarding, only a few slots after my check in number. Guitar and roller bag onboard. Holy fuck.
I am on the plane.
I don't have a toothbrush, possibly don't have any matching pairs of shoes but...I am on. The. Plane.