After our warm weekend, it was supposed to be almost 50 today. After last Friday when I was sweating bullets on the bus and train in my scarf and down coat, I thought I’d be smarter today. So I opted for a lighter wool coat and went sans hat. I traded the fake Uggs for tennis shoes. Fifty degrees in January, UR DOIN IT RITE!

Except, dumbass, it’s January. In Chicago. Yes, it is mild, but it is still January in Chicago. Which means it is still butt-ass cold in the mornings. And still hat weather. And down coat weather. And not thin sweater weather. (Seriously self. A thin, 3/4 sleeve sweater in January? What the fuck were you thinking?)

Guess who was freezing at the bus stop this morning? Go on, guess!

I figured by the time 5 PM rolled around, we would have some warmer weather and some nice-for-January temps. This was especially important because I had to work outside for two hours after work handing out information to commuters. I figured I was just properly dressed enough for 50 degrees in January so I wouldn’t be too hot or too cold.

Oh boy how wrong I was.

I’ve been home for like an hour and I still can’t feel my toes. This post has taken me an hour to write because my fingertips are still numb, so if I try to type at a normal speed, it comes out like this – nvr0[vd ak jr3i vd;hgri0e[o.

I’m not complaining. It could be so much worse. I am pissed at my stupidity. I know better. I’m a Chicagoan! Once you bring out the down coat, it really needs to stay out. Better to be too hot in this weather than too cold. Trust me. (HEAR THAT, SELF??!?)

The problem with this mild winter is that my body is not used to the cold. It hasn’t gotten a chance to acclimate. Yeah, we’ve had a day or two of some cold temps (i.e. normal for this time of year), but nothing like it could be. So when those days come, so few and far between, it knocks me on my ass. I want to eat all the things and then sleep for days. And then I don’t get a chance to toughen up and get used to it because then tomorrow? A high of 52. No. REALLY.

Again, not complaining. Except if it means it will be 60 and cloudy in July. Then we’re taking this outside, Mother Nature. Mano y mano.

So I will tie it into that because fruit does not belong with savory things. Pork chops and applesauce? Together? Touching on a plate? Not in my house!

This is stems from my daily perusal of food blogs. See, we’re almost a week out from Thanksgiving. That means all the blogs I read are talking all things Thanksgiving. I don’t really mind, since who doesn’t love Thanksgiving food? But the thing I’ve noticed is that all these fancy recipes for stuffing have fruit in them.

Why would you put fruit in stuffing? DO YOU HATE AMERICA?

I will eat fruit in only two things – banana bread and apple pie. Any other mixing of fruit in things is a NO. Sweet and savory at the same time? EVEN GROSSER. Fruit does not belong with meat, in salads, in layers between cake, drizzled on cheesecake or on pizza. People. No. Just no.

I used to think I was the only one like this. Years and years of being at parties and gatherings with perfectly good cake ruined by a layer of fruit in the middle and I was the only one turning it down. Who are all you people that think this is good?

But then Twitter came around and I no longer feel so alone.

And now Megan’s tweet will be my new life mantra. Fruit: The solitary food.

So I chose to believe her! Of course I did!

I started probiotics a few days ago. And I started the antibiotics this morning. I’m hoping it all works out and there are no poop-splosions in my near future. But, on a good note, I know what the symptoms are, in case I do have a repeat occurrence, and then I will stop taking the medicine. As opposed to the last time, when I just kept taking medicine that was making my ass feel like it was on fire.

Ahem.

Anyway, I bring this up because today I started two medicines in advance of the oral surgery. I picked them up at the drug store near my office this morning because when I went to pick them up yesterday, I realized I left my wallet at home. Good thing I bring my lunch!

The two things were not in a small white paper bag like normal prescriptions. They were in a LARGE brown paper bag. I’m pretty sure everyone that saw me leaving CVS this morning thought I was carrying an enema in the bag. Or 20 pregnancy tests.

But no! It was just a large bottle of pills and a GINORMOUS bottle of anti-bacterial mouthwash.

I started both these medicines this morning. The antibiotic is straight forward. The only thing that worried me was a) the chance of the poop issues, of course, and b) that it specifically says that if heartburn is one of the side effects, to contact your doctor immediately. Like it’s considered a SERIOUS side effect, where poop-splosions are just regular, run-of-the-mill side effects.

Well. Hmmm. That’s not good. Because I GET HEARTBURN EVERY DAY.

How do you know the difference? AM I GOING TO DIE?

The mouth rinse is also stupid. I have to do it twice a day, preferably once in the morning and once before bed. The problem with this is that I cannot eat or drink for two hours once I rinse. That’s fine at night when I’m drooling on my pillow. Not so fine in the morning when I’m hungry and thirsty and ITCHING for the caffeine from my coffee to be racing through my veins.

Oh! And it leaves a nasty taste in your mouth! So even water tastes gross! And food! So! At least it should work wonders on my too-tight pants!

As long as it doesn’t lead to the Kristin Johnsons, I’m calling it a huge victory.

So Monday morning, as I was getting off the bus and heading to the train station, I was like the 15th person in line. My bus route ends at the rail station, so everyone gets off the bus and I would say that most, if not all, people go into the station to get on the train.

This can cause quite a back-up at the turnstiles. Not only are you having to deal with the throngs of people, you also have to sometimes deal with the person who is trying to exit the station through the turnstile you’re trying to go through.

I’m not patient. I’m especially not patient early in the morning when I’m running late and haven’t had any coffee. So I will go to any open turnstile.

We have accessible turnstiles at most rail stations. They are wider and can fit a wheelchair through it. It’s also helpful when you’re bringing a suitcase or some sort of large bag with you that won’t easily fit through the narrow turnstiles.

So Monday morning there was some back-up at the three non-accessible turnstiles. I decided to use the accessible one to a) help move traffic through efficiently and b) because my fare card/pass has been acting up and only likes to work when it is the first smart card to touch the pad. Otherwise it takes me forever to get it to work and then I hold up people and they curse at me under their breath.

Let me preface this with the fact that I was not cutting off someone in a wheelchair to use the accessible turnstile. I was not putting myself before others who NEEDED this turnstile, whose only option was this turnstile. I just really didn’t want to hold up the other line with my touchy card.

So, I enter the turnstile and push the door open. As I do this, I see a little kid coming towards me, followed closely by a man with a stroller. I decided to be nice and hold the gate open for him, seeing as it is hard to maneuver.

This was my first mistake.

He then looks at me and starts screaming at me. (Keep in mind it’s like before 8 AM.) He’s decided that I, as a non-wheelchaired person, shouldn’t be using this turnstile. So he starts shouting, “Because you’re handicapped, right? Because you’re handicapped?”

My jaw drops to the ground. And yet, I STILL KEEP HOLDING THE GATE OPEN FOR HIM AND HIS STROLLER. And then he’s at it again.

“Because you’re handicapped? Right? You’re handicapped? Because you’re handicapped.”

I can do nothing but glare. Which is my second mistake. I should have punched him in the junk.

I finally get my uncaffeniated wits about me and scream back “BECAUSE YOU ARE?” And then I run up the stairs to catch my train. (Thankfully, not falling up the stairs or escalator.)

I have the whole commute in to work to think about this, which just makes me seethe. I have every right to use that turnstile, no more or less than he does. And my using that turnstile didn’t make him have to wait, even a nanosecond, to exit the station. I was through the gate and HOLDING IT OPEN FOR HIS CHILD HE LET RUN AHEAD IN A CROWDED TRAIN STATION AT RUSH HOUR when he got all pissy.

There is no rule you can’t use the accessible turnstiles if you’re not in a wheelchair. And how do you know I don’t have a medical issue where I can’t go through turnstiles? What if I had a fake hip? What if I had a bad back and the turnstile made it hurt more? OH WAIT, I DO.

The worst part is that the Customer Assistants at the stations will encourage exactly what I did during the rush periods. The faster you can get people through, the better. Everyone is happy and no one misses their train.

I just don’t understand. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE??

I know what you’re all thinking – “Wow, she decides to start blogging regularly again and keeps it up for like a week. YAWN.”

But! I have an excuse! Of course I do! The cat puked on my laptop! (Actually, that really happened. And thankfully it did no damage. Stupid cat.)

Actually, my internet at home is not working. This has been happening, off and on, for a week or so. I have tried everything I could think of to fix this issue – resetting the router, using a cable to connect directly to the modem, praying to the Internet Gods – NOTHING WORKS! Actually, the wire did work for like a day and then just stopped working. But my sister is in the room with the modem and the wire, and I was nice enough to let her use the interweb before me. I’m a good landlord like that.

See, the problem is that my condo building switched to a local internet company last year. They supply the whole building and we get some sort of deal and all that jazz. (WHEN IT WORKS!) I haven’t really been impressed with their service at all. I had an issue late last year where my wireless router stopped working. I called them to get them to help me fix it and they couldn’t. And since they only send out technicians during the HOURS I AM WORKING, I fixed it myself by routing the non-working router through my one working router and VIOLA! Internet for all!

I had to call them again this week with this whole “non-working” issue. There seemed to be some issues building-wide last week (according to the flutter of activity on the condo message board). This was when I was attending a sales meeting all week and home just enough to sleep each night. So apparently a technician came out at 2 PM on a Thursday to get it fixed. Which works if you don’t have an office job or a job at all. I, on the other hand, was sitting in said sales meeting.

Fast forward to Monday and the damn thing just totally quits on me. I call this stupid company and I spend like 30 minutes on the phone with a guy who is all “I don’t see your address in our system. Are you sure you have service with us?” (UGH. Not a good start. At all.)

He is useless over the phone and puts in a ticket for someone to call me. Someone FINALLY calls – on Wednesday afternoon. ALMOST TWO DAYS LATER! And they inform me they can only come during the hours of 8-5, you know, the hours when I’m required to be WORKING IN AN OFFICE. THAT IS NOT IN MY HOME!

I made an appointment for Thursday morning. I hope I don’t end up having to be too late to the office. See, I could bring my laptop home with me to work from home, but that would require being able to CONNECT TO THE INTERNET! You know, the internet I PAY FOR!

And on top of it, I sent a note to our property management company to see how to cancel service with this company so I can go back to AT&T. And I have yet to hear back from them. Since they brokered the deal and I pay my internet through my assessments, I have to make sure they are aware. Why have they not answered my email??

I AM JUST SURROUNDED BY GOOD CUSTOMER SERVICE EVERYWHERE!

*head explodes*

:::::::

In other news, at Food Lush this week I wrote about the fantastic pie I made for Thanksgiving.

Also, March Madness starts Thursday! Don’t forget to fill out your brackets! And if you want to compete in a pool for FREE, go join our group from Draft Day Suit. No cost to enter, but Yahoo is giving away fabulous prizes!

But I do love coffee. I am addicted to it. I NEED to have it in the mornings. I’m convinced that if I don’t drink it, I’m more tired throughout the day. And in the winter, it is non-negotiable since it is so cold in this office, I NEED the coffee to warm up me bones.

So the only options are really to buy coffee every day or drink the crappy coffee here in the office.

Back before the holidays, one of my lovely co-workers brought in some flavored creamer, this kind Peppermint Mocha. And I was hooked. I even wrote about my love of this creamer over at Food Lush because now that it is almost spring, I’m having a hard time finding this particular flavor.

Since I started Weight Watchers, I’ve been bringing in a measuring spoon for my creamer. Two tablespoons is two points and I can afford that each day. But no more than that. And let’s be honest, my lack of being able to eyeball measurements is how I got into this fat mess in the first place.

All these words are to say, I know how long my creamer should last. I mean, a serving is a tablespoon and the small bottle is like 32 tablespoons. If only I am using this bottle, the bottle should last three weeks.

NOT SO MUCH.

I brought in a small bottle of creamer on a Friday a few weeks ago and by Wednesday, I noticed it was more than half empty. This bottle is in the community fridge, but clearly marked with MY name. And I’m the only Kristin here.

There is another girl here who also brings creamer and I asked her if she noticed her stash was a little lighter than normal. She thought so, but couldn’t be sure. So I was all “I MEASURE it out each day, so I know! SOMEONE IS STEALING MY CREAMER!”

The next day, I got up to go grab a paper towel from the kitchen. At this time, I see one of the consultants in the IT department USING the creamer. (My co-worker and I have the same flavor, so I don’t know whose it was.) He poured it in his tea (BARF!) and then put it back in the fridge.

And then I proceeded to tell everyone in the office that this asshat was the thief!

I figured since he SAW me when he was stealing the creamer, this would stop. I would be wrong. Because the next morning, when I went to get coffee, I pulled out my bottle of creamer and there was nothing but an EMPTY bottle with my name on it in the fridge! EMPTY! He used up the rest and put an empty bottle in the fridge! MOTHER FUCKER!

This had to stop. The culprit sits near me. I came back from the kitchen all ragey, and I turned to my cubemate and we had the following conversation all while the THIEF was standing 2 feet from me:

ME: So, co-worker, did you hear about how someone is stealing my coffee creamer?

CW: No! That totally sucks!

ME: Yeah, the interesting thing, though, is I KNOW who it is!

(turns to glare at the THIEF who looks right at me, like he’s going to crap his pants!)

CW: You do???

Since then, I have had to resort to bringing my creamer in in a sports bottle and hiding it in the fridge. But I think it has solved the problem. Good thing he’s a consultant and isn’t going to be here much longer.

I still take every opportunity to loudly chide him whenever possible, though. Oh, and I’ve told everyone in the office he’s the THIEF! He’ll be so thankful when this consulting gig is up! HA!

But then the squealing didn’t stop. The kid was apparently running up and down the hall, screaming and yelling and just enjoying himself. I figured he was waiting for one of the parents to catch up with him and then he was going to go in the elevator and the noise, it would stop.

I was not so lucky. Because apparently the neighbors decided that it was too much effort to let their kid go play outside, even though it was not snowing or raining or sleeting outside. I mean, it is winter, so it wasn’t warm, but it was fine enough to have the kid go to the park or run on the sidewalk and NOT in the hallway outside my living room.

So I did what any normal person did, I went to Twitter to complain.

And then I asked the Twitter parents if this was something they would allow their kid to do. The consensus was a resounding NO. And look, I know kids need to burn off energy. If there were three feet of snow outside and no way for this kid to run around, I would be OK with it. But that was NOT THE CASE.

After 30 minutes, I just got mad. And instead of saying something to them, I just decided to make passive aggressive comments, loudly, from my couch, hoping they would hear. And turned up the TV and hoped that the little tyke was outside my door when Deb Morgan when off on one of her motherfucking, curse-laden tirades.

And even after that didn’t help, shockingly, I made idle threats to Twitter and Facebook about punching my neighbor in the throat and promising to blast my loud rap music at midnight that night, complete with explicit lyrics.

In reality, all it did was piss me off and force me to get off my ass and get dressed and go to the grocery store. So there’s that.

But still. A condo building hallway is no place for your kid to play soccer. Our front doors aren’t soundproof. I can hear it ALL. It’s annoying! Especially when I want to relax on the weekend. And what if I was trying to sleep off a hangover? It’s not just you and your kid that live in this building, people!

The next time it happens, I will take action. Or not. Let’s be honest, I will be doing the same damn thing.

Remember last week? When I so stupidly thought it was just an unlit pilot light and that I had fixed the problem? Well hoo boy was I wrong. Because it? Still isn’t working!

GAH!

I called them out on Saturday to look at it, after I noticed that while I could light it, there was only lukewarm water hours later. So then I became that girl, on her belly in the hallway of her condo, staring at a one-inch window on the bottom of a water heater, looking at a flame. A flame that WOULD NOT STAY LIT!

So the dude came, four hours late mind you, and it started! And he’s like “it’s fine! Don’t call tomorrow if it goes out! Just kidding! Not really, I don’t want to work tomorrow.” NO! Really! HE SAID THAT! And it was lit and heating up water and I was like “OK, dude, now get the fuck out so I can shower this stank off me.”

I got cocky and overjoyed at my hot water and all the possibilities! Running the dishwasher! Doing laundry! Taking a hot, hot bath!

And in those 10 minutes of cockiness, the stupid pilot light went out. And I couldn’t get it to re-light. So I decided the only thing to do was to drink a whole bottle of Tempranillo. It wouldn’t help with the smell, but it would make me feel better.

I finally sucked it up and took a shower at the gym on Sunday. I don’t like showering in public places, and my gym is not that fancy, but it has warm water, so it was fine. Well, it was more than fine. Being clean was GLORIOUS!

I figured that I would work from home on Monday, the plumbers would be less busy and bam! I would have hot water by the end of the working day!

But again, that fucking water heater reminded me what a formidable opponent he was. Because he wasn’t going down easy.

The plumber got here around 1 PM. He replaced a part (the thermocouple, which is what everyone thought was wrong with the water heater), the thing started up, it stayed on for more than 10 minutes and we called the project complete. He left and said they would mail me a bill.

I AGAIN rejoiced (BECAUSE I AM A SLOW LEARNER) and figured I would have a really nice shower at the end of my work day.

“Not so fast,” said the water heater.

Because my life has been all water heater, all the time since last Thursday, I am officially obsessed. I am constantly listening for the burner to turn on and constantly pulling open the little door to look for a flame. I’m not sure what it actually looks like when it is working properly, because every time I look for a flame, THERE ISN’T ONE!

I called the plumber back and left a message. And then two hours later, I left another message. And tomorrow morning at 7 AM, I plan to call and leave another message. Because, fuck it. This water heater is broken. Just put a new one in. I Googled all of this and basically some part is probably broken on the gas valve. And that costs as much as a new water heater. So let’s cut our losses, water heater. You win. And now, I’m going to kick your ass to the curb.

You may be a worthy opponent, but this is MY HOUSE and I always win in my house.

And I have good reason to catch up on all this TV! See, we’re not supposed to have satellite dishes on the condo building. So I’m in violation of something something. But! They are getting DirectTV for the whole building! For more than what I pay now for Dish Network. So, my options are to pay $75 for TV (THAT IS A LOT OF MONEY! Even for someone like me who watches a lot of TV. And I mean a lot!) or get cable. But cable isn’t any cheaper. I think we are now eligible for UVerse in my neighborhood. Maybe that is the way to go? Anyone know if it is cheaper than $75/month?

Anyway, that wasn’t what this rant was going to be about, actually. This rant was also about the new internet service in my building. See, our condo board is not interested in figuring out why PEOPLE STEAL MAIL (four of my birthday cards, with money in them, went missing. FOUR!), but have spent time figuring out how to get us a good deal on internet and TV. And while I am thankful for this, it is also an inconvenience when you switch internet providers and then your wireless router JUST STOPS WORKING! After like TWO WEEKS! Yeah! So much for the increased speeds! I don’t get to experience them because I have to stay tethered to my desk! And my desk chair is uncomfortable! And I want to use my laptop on my LAP in front of the TV! I do not think that is too much to ask!

So before this, I had AT&T. I know a lot of people hate AT&T, especially for their DSL. I had their DSL service or 5 years and never once had a problem. I’ve had this local-based internet company for two weeks, and shit don’t work. This is not worth it.

I called them to complain. Their solution? “Well, we will get back to you in 24-28 hours with either a fix or an update.” WTDF? It’s 2010! Shouldn’t you be able to fix that shit over the phone?

So I’m hoping to have it fixed soon. Otherwise I will need to go find a really long cable so I can still use my computer on the couch. Because I’m pretty sure I threw the last one away, after my old laptop’s wireless adapter shit the bed.

And normally I’d just be fine using my phone, but the 3G service in my house kind of sucks lately. And also, I had to get a new phone over the weekend. What’s that you say? Didn’t I just get this phone a mere three months ago? Yes. Yes I did.

But sometime on Friday night, my phone became possessed. Some ghost was fucking with me and kept pushing the power button on the phone, therefore shutting off the screen. And then sometimes, for shits and giggles, this ghost would hold the button down and try to turn the phone totally off. This would generally happen when I was IN THE MIDDLE OF TYPING SOMETHING! It was so damn annoying.

Saturday morning was no better. So I finally decided to head to the Apple Store. I got an appointment at the Genius Bar for later that evening at 6 PM. My only hope was that one, it would be fixed that day because I am addicted to my phone and two, that it wouldn’t cost me anything.

Of course when I got to the Apple Store, my phone was fine. Thankfully it performed on cue and acted possessed when the Apple man tried to get the serial number. So he knew I wasn’t making shit up. And then for fun, it just wouldn’t turn back on. Possessed iPhone FTW!

Apple man suited me up with a new phone and I was on my merry way. (Seriously, the service in the Apple Store was super impressive. Made me happy!)

And I didn’t even have to tell them that I may have dropped my phone in the toilet two weeks prior.

Whoops.

Actually, that’s probably a little hasty. I have had two successful trips on Delta in the last 12 months. Once to Atlanta last December and then to NYC in August to BlogHer. My August experience wasn’t perfect, but that was mostly because I was one of the first flights out of the day and I don’t think the people working the check-in counter had had their coffee yet.

(And I will say, fly Delta Shuttle to LaGuardia because they are in this small little terminal and it is just them and you’ll be in and out so fast you’ll forget you’re flying into New York City.)

Anyway, as I mentioned in my previous post, I spent the weekend in Minnesota. It was kind of last minute. My friend Lori from Arizona sent me an email about a month ago and was like “I’m going to be in MN and Mike (her hubby) is going to come up for the weekend with me and you should totally fly up to meet us because MN is a lot closer to Chicago than AZ!” And I was like “FUCK YEAH! I’m so there!”

So the thing is, I’m out of vacation time for the year. Because I was poop sick and had to use all my sick days and two vacation days to stay home and pretty much be chained to my toilet. You’re welcome co-workers! I stayed home and didn’t give you c diff! It’s highly contagious! I should get a free vacation day because I’m SO NICE!

Since I had no vacation time, the plan was to go up there Friday after work and come back Sunday evening, since it is such a short flight. Since I work near O’Hare, it is easiest to fly out of there at a reasonable time and not miss any work. It was a perfect plan!

But then I remembered that O’Hare is a nightmare on a Tuesday afternoon. On a Friday evening, it was going to be insane. So before I left the office on Friday I said to my cubemate “wish me good travel mojo! I don’t have time for delays this weekend!”

Dear self, NEVER SAY THAT AGAIN. EVER.

So I got to the airport. The security line was a little long, but I had plenty of time. I stopped to get some apple juice (my go-to airport drink) and went to chill at my gate. My flight was supposed to leave at 6:10. As soon as I sat down, they announced there was a slight delay due to some mechanical issue. Slight delay became a longer delay. Longer delay became cancellation. CANCELLATION! And while, yes, I’m glad they canceled it, rather than put us up in the air in a broken plane, I was still very mad about the cancellation!

The gate agents were very helpful. They worked to get everyone on another flight that night. I got put on a United flight that was leaving at 8:10. So I was only going to be 2 hours delayed. But it killed all the plans I had for seeing some of my friends that evening. But all was not lost, since I was going to get there! And on Friday night!

The trip was awesome. I had such a great time with my friends. We can just sit around and do nothing and we can have a good time. I got to see the Twins new OUTDOOR ballpark, meet new babies, see another toddler that is no longer a baby and is now my BFF because I’m the crazy adult who will tickle you and act like a kid!

Sunday was a nice relaxing day. My friend Julie and I had a great brunch, went shopping and got our nails done. On the way to the nail salon, I got like three missed calls on my phone from some 800 number. I ignored it because I don’t answer calls from people I don’t know (or people I don’t like). After the third missed call, I called the number to see who it was. It was Delta. I knew it couldn’t be good.

So I immediately checked my email. My 5:15 flight had been canceled. CANCELED. AGAIN! And they had so kindly re-booked me on a flight on Monday morning at 9 AM. That went through CLEVELAND. It got me back to Chicago in more time than it would have taken me to drive. Clearly this was unacceptable. And I called Delta and told them just this.

The woman on the phone was very nice. She said she could confirm me on the last seat on the last flight of the night at 9:30. I said “I’ll take it!” because I needed to be at work Monday morning.

I spent the afternoon on Julie’s couch, watching football, drinking a beer and writing blog posts. I even caught about 45 minutes of the Bears debacle before leaving for the airport.

I got to the airport in plenty of time. I went and sat at my gate and found a plug to charge my phone. I was ready to be in the air at 9:30.

Oh silly me, I should have known better by now! Our flight was delayed! Because we had no crew! They were on a flight to Minneapolis from Philadelphia! So we would leave once they finally got there. Which they were hoping was soon!

Soon is a relative term in the airline industry. Because I think 30 minutes is soon. They think “still today” is soon. The crew finally got there a little after 10 and we finally boarded and took off a little before 11. Which means we landed at almost midnight. Only 2 hours later than we would have gotten in.

I got home about 12:45. Because I had to take a cab. My car was at the work parking garage, close to the airport, but I didn’t know if I could get in and out of there after midnight, so I didn’t even want to risk it. I wanted to get home and pass out from exhaustion, preferably still in my clothes. Because changing would have been too much work.

Throughout all of this, I made sure to let Delta know my feelings about them on Twitter.

Delta is very responsive on Twitter. But as I’ve found in my multiple dealing with them, their response is always “sorry, let me know if there is anything I can assist you with.”

And unless you can assist me with your airline not fucking sucking, then stop wasting my time.

Thus ends your PSA for the day. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.