It's become painfully clear that traveling on the 27th would have been a disaster. First of all, I'm quite certain we are going to have a stomach virus that day and you can't possibly fly while you're busy vomiting. And I now can see that for some insane reason Erik and I would have spent the longest leg of our journey seated apart, but both next to people who snore and wear too much perfume.
And I hate to say it, but I know now that at some point the plane would have crashed. AND they would have lost our luggage.
And most importantly of all, we would have missed the first episode of the new season of Lost.
We were saved by the skin of our teeth.
Genre and Nonfiction
20 hours ago