Final Destination

I couldn’t sleep Sunday night. And it’s not anything spiritual like over at Steve McCoy’s space. It’s just my old buddy, Insomnia, back for another visit. At 2:46 a.m. I got out of bed and flipped on the tube. Reruns. Infomercials. Fitness equipment that promise great abs in only 4 minutes a day.

At 4:45 a.m. my alarm went off. I hit the shower, grabbed a jumbo cup of Starbucks, and headed out to Austin-Bergstrom Airport to fly to Atlanta via Houston.

At 6:00 the lady at the Continental check-in desk tells me I have no ticket. (Long story I won’t go into here.) So, I pay a mere $800 for a ticket at the gate. I’m ticked. Not only am I out $800, but it’s 6:00 in the freakin’ morning. On a Monday. With no sleep.

At 8:00 I arrive in Houston to transfer to Atlanta. But my Atlanta fight has been delayed from 9:00 to 10:15. No biggie. I haul freight across the mongo-airport that is Bush International, I check my email, make some phone calls, and I’m good to go.

But wait. Now it’s been delayed to 10:55. Arrgh.

Nope…now it’s been delayed to 11:50.

Make that noon.

I’m actually headed to be a part of Global Youth Ministries’ Youth Ministry Mentor symposium. Since I’m officially old for a youth guy (39 next month), I guess they figure it’s time for me to start giving back to the ‘ol community.

Thanks to Continental Airlines, now I’ll be the crotchety old grumpy youth guy sitting in the corner, slurping coffee and mumbling that it’s past my bedtime.

I’m thinking, “This better be good.”

Today is Tuesday and, so far, it is.