3-2-3 at Work

The weekend before last, we were at my law school reunion in Charlottesville.  It deserves a post of its own (which I really need to do), but on Sunday, after brunch with my best friend and her family, we got in the car to drive back to DC to fly home.  Unfortunately, as I said, big storms in the Dallas area at the same time apparently, which led to the cancellation of all flights home. 

We spent Monday hanging out in DC (I worked remotely) and flew home Monday night.  As an aside, we had to fly home separately.  We had flown out to DC several days apart, and when flights were rebooked, if we wanted 2 seats on a flight, we had to wait until Tuesday, so we opted to fly separately Monday night.  We each had a car key.  My husband was supposed to land about 20 minutes before me.  Because DFW sucks, there are 5 different terminals, and if you fly on American, which is based there, the odds of landing at the terminal where you took off are roughly 30%.  Even if you fly round trip, there's still a good chance you have to get on a stupid train to go back to your car.  The plan was that he'd land, go get the car in terminal A, and then pick me up outside wherever I landed. 

We're "early to bed" people (the whole "workout starts at 5:30 a.m." leaves us with few other options), and he was supposed to land at 8:40, and I was landing at 9:10.  Yikes. 

AND we were flying home to a house with no food, so there was going to have to be a stop at the grocery store.  Double yikes.

Well, as luck would have it, my husband's incoming plane had a casket on it.

This is his FB picture and I will say for the record that he posted that he had a lot of internal debate about whether to even take this photo, as well as whether to share it, but he decided to do so, thinking it was something we shouldn't forget. 

 

I don't know if it was the casket or something else, but his flight was delayed.  At first, it was just 20 minutes, then 40, then an hour.  I knew he was delayed 20 minutes when I was taking off, so the plan was we'd land and both head toward the car and see who got there first to pick up the other person.  I landed at terminal C and went straight for the train to get to terminal A.  On the train, I checked his flight status and saw he was scheduled to land at 10:10.  I'd landed a couple minutes before 9. 

An idea took hold and I texted about it with my best running buddy.  He encouraged me.  And I went for it.

Got in the car and drove as fast as I could to a grocery store he recommended, spent about $100 buying the essentials (breakfast, lunch and dinner food to get us through at least a few days), and then drove back to the airport as fast as I could. 

I was pulling out of the grocery store parking lot as my husband texted me to say "wheels down."  Drive, drive, drive.  Fortunately, no traffic, and fortunately, I'd gone out the north airport exit, which is as close as possible to the terminal where he was landing. 

As he was walking outside, I was pulling up.  I'd guess he had to wait about 30 seconds.  He was thrilled there were groceries in the car and we could go straight home.  We got to bed not long after 11 I think, and then we were both back at work the next day.

I always work from home on Fridays, so that meant Tues-Wed-Thurs in the office last week.

This week, only two days.  Monday-Tuesday.  Tomorrow we are heading to San Fran for an awesome very long weekend.  I can't wait! 

Flying home Monday, Memorial Day.  Then Tues-Wed-Thurs in the office. 

3 days, 2 days, 3 days.  I could get used to that!!