So my story begins like this. I fly out to Seattle for an interview on Thursday. This goes smoothly enough. I show up, talk for half a day, get rejected, hang out with some friends. I am supposed to fly home on Saturday.
Then, the East Coast gets attacked by the Blizzard Monster. When I show up at the airport the next day, I find out my flight is canceled. Fun! The airline says I can't get a flight until Tuesday due to the number of canceled flights and people traveling for the holidays. I can't get in touch with my recruiter to see if they'll cover things or take care of housing-type things. Thankfully, my mom is like, a super-elite airplane traveler and therefore works her black magic to fly out on Sunday, when things are supposed to be nicer. Yay!
It's an extra day in Seattle, so this means I can hang out with friends some more and eat Dim Sum and make fun of The Avengers movie. Which is excellent. Yay.
The next day, I get up, go to the airport, and my flight is delayed by 20 minutes. This is worrying, because my layover is only about 35 minutes long. The people assure me that this is okay. There's a tailwind and the gates are very close together and they'll probably hold the plane for connections.
In theory, that's what was supposed to happen. What actually happened was that they delay ended up being an hour long, and of course, I managed to miss my connection. The next flight out? Not until tomorrow. So I am FUCKING STRANDED AGAIN FOR THE SECOND TIME, AND I HAVE BEEN WEARING THE SAME CLOTHES FOR THE LAST TWO DAYS ALREADY, AND I THINK I'VE BROKEN OUT IN TEARS MORE TIMES THAN I CAN COUNT DUE TO FRUSTRATION AND STRESS, AND GODDAMNIT, I WANT TO BE HOME.
Plus, I lost my hair tie, so now my hair just keeps annoying me. Fuck.
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