So, I have a few tight deadlines this week, but I wanted to stop in and share my unlucky day.
Yesterday, I ordered tickets to go home for the summer. I spend about an hour looking for the cheapest possible tickets (“cheapest” here meaning <1600 dollars) and finally settled for one that was exactly 30 bucks less than the one I originally found. I proudly pressed buy, inserted my credit card info, and only on my receipt noticed that it included an extra night in London. Now, if I didn't have a job I had to be back at on that Monday, a day in London could be fun, but since I've already squeezed as much vacation time as I could out of my work place, I didn't feel I could show up late as well. Cue panic.
I contacted the travel agency and they got back to me today, fixing my flight with no problem. No problem, that is, except the nifty cancellation fee of 150 dollars on my first flight, and the extra 30 dollars I had to pay for my new flight. I begrudgingly agreed.
At least I get to go to Zumba today, I thought to myself. Sure, I'll have to go back to work after to meet my deadline, but I'll get a nice break in the middle of the evening to go do something fun, and I'll return all energized and focused (and sweaty). I packed up my stuff and headed out at a quarter past five, only to find that the place was on the other side of town. I rushed over and made it with four minutes to spare. The class was full, and I had to walk all the way back to work, annoyed and un-Zumbaed.
But you know what? I spring is in the air, I got a nice walk, I worked out in the half-empty office before I stumbled home at nine-thirty, I finally got an idea for my writing prompt, and life isn't half bad.
And I'll be in Norway in July. Look me up!