Who moved my neti pot?

I’m back from Michigan with several new potholders and a second round of sick to show for it–no reflection on the quality of the visit, which was by any measure high–so understandably I am calling D on his way home from church right now to see if he can stop by Whole Foods and get me one of these, because we had a midnight flight back that was more or less just like this. And you know, I’m one of those people who loves to roll her eyes at air travel complainers, but I think last night I learned a valuable lesson: being boxed in by screaming children on two sides, sitting next to a woman who proudly proclaims that she’s been drinking beer since 3pm (on a 9pm delayed to 10pm flight) and feels like she needs to vomit, waiting half an hour at the baggage carousel for the first piece of luggage to show up–these are not good things. It is healthy to not like these things, no matter how reasonable you are about the costs of low-cost airfare or how full of Christian charity you might like to be. Flying often sucks, and the suckage is bound to increase exponentially any time you do it at a time of day that you would normally spend sleeping. I feel more grown-up having finally admitted this to myself. And more likely to spring for midday flights.

Oy vey. I’ll try to think of something  more insightful for the new year right after I perfect my neti pot technique.