FFS

I was reading a blog that Friend recommended, laughing over texts between a guy and his dog, when I came across an abbreviation I didn't know.

"For Fuck's Sake," Friend offered helpfully and I nodded at her reply to my inquiry.

And I uttered those letters with varying degrees of feeling - from friendly exasperation to vicious rage.

1. I awakened at 2AM, rolling over and calculating how much more time I could snuggle under covers.  It wasn't long.
2. When attempting to open my Advil en route to the airport, I was unable to outsmart the child-proof cap and injured myself in the attempt.  I also failed, meaning my head and hand hurt. 
3. I got lost on the way to the airport.  My home airport.  That I use frequently.  But who closes an interstate?!
4. Upon finding the airport, I missed the turn for parking.  Meaning I circled again as the sun peeked above the horizon and the hour neared 4:15.
5. As I lost my way, I ended up joining the security line late.  Behind ~40 middle school travelers embarking upon some sort of field trip.  
6. I selected the wrong line for carry-on screening, watching men who had been behind me for the ID check speed through while I waited behind slowpokes.  (Said slowpokes were not part of the field trip group - they operated like a well-oiled, matching-shirted machine!)
7. Upon arriving at the gate, my newly-purchased bottle of water was already too slippery to hold.  FFS, humidity!
8. The colleague I was accompanying on the trip (as he was the important one for this particular case) checked in at the airport and therefore didn't have a seat on our over-sold flight.
9. After getting all excited about not having to go at all, we had enough volunteers linger - hoping for more than a $400 voucher - and my colleague got a seat.
10. "We have to go," I sighed, shoulders slumping as I followed him down the jet bridge.  "FFS," I offered mildly.
11. Once boarded, we waited for fuel.  Did we not realize we'd need fuel beforehand?
12. Once landed, we waited for someone to drive the jet bridge to us.  Did they not realize we were arriving on schedule?  Hello?  LGA?
13. While I made it past security at our destination without having to jump through hoops, my colleague was not as smooth.  Which meant I had to go back to fetch him and jump through even more hoops. 
14. We caught a cab easily, my last terrifying visit to the city having taught me where to hail one.  And I did - I hailed one!  But I hurt my hand trying to open the door.
15. Feeling in need of a little perk, I texted a friend, expecting him to make me laugh.  He failed to make me laugh, but succeeded in hurting my feelings.  So I'm officially mad at and ignoring him.  He doesn't know this, but I do.
16. A little offended and a lot impatient, we arrived at JFK and skirted a huge line of humanity to check in.  "They can't be waiting to clear security," I breathed, watching the mass of people snake around the check-in counters and out the door into the beautiful afternoon.  
17. An hour later, I was convinced that it would ease at some point.  That we'd stop this slow shuffle forward and TSA would add more people or Delta would get organized in managing the lines and we'd all zip through!  
18. An hour after that, I was near tears.  I hated the person managing the lines - how dare she talk to colleagues?!  Or go get water?!  Was she not aware of my misery?  Of how awful the impatience and sense of fairness was to me?  I wished bad things for her, I decided, glaring steadily.
19. We were finally pulled out of line when our flight was called, joining the single line of people going through a single scanner!  One at a time!  FFS, JFK! Or TSA!  Or President Obama!  Or whoever did this to me!
20. We finally arrived back home.  Only to wait 10 minutes (which felt like an eternity, honestly) for the jet bridge to reach the plane.  How hard is this, people?

FGS Items

- I wore a blue chiffon top over a slightly darker camisole and made so many friends!  I had men chatting with me all day, which was lovely.  The flight attendant on my first flight, the guy in front of me in line at JFK (with the delicious accent and quirky glasses), my seat mate on the flight back home.  Thank you, friendly men.

- I talked to my folks and things are OK at home.  Dad doesn't feel well and he's trying to like his new recliner but they keep taking it back to get new ones. (I didn't fully understand - I was tired and fighting traffic.)

- Much as I feel tempted to explore the city while actually outside a cab or when I'm not arriving and departing in the same day, I'm so pleased to be home.   I love being home.

- I love Delta cookies.  

- My hair, curled before dawn, stayed all pretty all day.