one missed flight.

I've never felt so helpless in my life.

I can't explain it - I mean, it's not a big deal. The guy got me on the same flight tomorrow morning, and waived the $75 fee. Most likely because my hysteria brought him to tears - thank you Jesus for female hormones.

But after being here for three weeks it just feels like it's time for home. Don't get me wrong - I've had a great time here. There's just something about home. And the built up anticipation of this day. Right now I am supposed to be on a direct flight from Miami to SeaTac...and I'm not.

Getting to the checkout line and hearing that it's too late was so devastating. And that seems kind of extreme, but it all seemed like a bad dream. I am sincerely hoping to wake up to the sound of my 5:30am alarm telling me it's time to get up - I've got a flight to catch.

I'll see most of you tomorrow night.

I miss you all very much.