Delayed...

Today was mostly a bust. The weekend trip was over and that meant reluctantly packing all of my belongings. I managed a shower; I even washed my hair.  Now I'm rather glad I took the time to do that this morning.

With an early morning meeting at 7:30, Quinn drove us to the location shoot, a McDonalds on the outskirts of Seattle. Quinn and M talked up a quaint breakfast place only to find out that it is closed on Mondays.  Our only option was to eat where the commercials will be shot.  I reluctantly choked down a sausage burrito and had my fair share of coffee before getting back into Quinn's minivan for the drive to the pre-production meeting.

It was more sitting and waiting there.  People buzzed around a large conference room table and a stylist brought in wardrobe choices for the actors.  One by one the "talent" showed up.  The men talked color options and accessories -- a language that seemed quite foreign to most of them.  I sat away from the group on some couches against the window.  There were outlets there to charge my various devices, and I decided it would be best not to add my two cents to their conversation. M called me over to the big table for our shared lunch.  Actors filed in with wardrobe options and it was hard not to lend my own commentary.

The meeting wrapped up around 3:30 in the afternoon and it made the most sense to go to straight to the airport. There'd been a huge crash in Delta's reservation system that completely grounded flights for the airline for hours this morning.  I assumed (wrongly) that everything would be back in working order by the evening.  No such luck.

I have been waiting here ever since that afternoon drop-off.  It is nearly 8 hours later.  My flight ran late and had to be changed to a direct flight home.  Then, the direct flight got bumped from 9:30pm to a 12:20am departure.   The screen says we'll be boarding in 45 minutes; however, after 2 plane changes and 3 different gates, I won't believe it until I'm actually on a plane and taking off for the east coast.  I've spent much of the day counting my chickens and nothing has hatched.  I even had to fight to claim my original seat assignment.  

There are people all over, crowding any seats they can find, plugged into the walls to charge their devices, leaning against columns with tickets in hand. Waiting.  A child is wrapped up on his blanket, his head clearly on the nasty airport floor.  I keep telling myself if I manage to get through this without getting sick, it will be a miracle.  Airport germs are even more pervasive than hotel room germs to me.  We are a herd of various folk stranded together. But as the time ticks by, our resolve softens a bit, and we too end up on the floor, completely resigned to collapse.  You can only hold on so long.  

My husband, who was so adamant of my visit this weekend is now apologizing for the complications.  Like everything else, it is out of our hands.  We are left just waiting and hoping.