It all started Wednesday night actually…. Jackie, Yashmeen, and I went out to celebrate my last night in the NYC. This turned into quite a late night and I didn't get home and in bed until about 4am. I then was supposed to get to work by 8:30. Completely groggy me thought I could get up at 8:15 and get there on time. I apparently suffer from bouts of utter stupidity. So, I get to work 30 minutes late and it's a mad house! The last day of summer school was supposed to be easy. Teachers were just supposed to come in and pass out their report cards. I was foolish to believe that 1. Anything at 390 would be easy and 2. That anything at 390 would be organized.
The short version is that report cards weren't done, and then they were being completed randomly and thrown at myself and a high school worker (whose aunt is the Assistant Principle). Not all of the people were making the necessary copies of their report cards; they were filling in stuff after they had made copies, etc. Apparently this nephew had never done anything organized before as he just piled these report cards by class instead of grouping them in anyway by grade. EX: there were 4 different piles of 8th grade report cards. I took the said 8th grade report cards as I wanted to get my kids out of there so I could go run all of my errands. This seemed like a totally novel idea to my co-worker. We attempted to hold the students off for as long as possible, but that only lasted until 10.
For once our security guards were useful however and managed to keep most of them at bay outside of the school. The next frustration then came with realizing how truly difficult is was to look through 8 billion stacks of papers for the students cards. We also found out the hard way that some teachers had failed to do reports for some students. Super. Note: This "short version" is getting rather long, isn't it? Why didn't you say something sooner?! To conclude: everyone was stressed, I was stressed and sleep deprived, moments away from breaking down into tears, and finally just left around 1130 as I couldn't handle the chaos any more. Did I mention no other teachers were helping? Well, they weren't!
From there I had to go to the Dr's and get my last shots and travel prescriptions. I know what you are thinking, "Way to wait until the last minute!" In my defense, my doctor told me to come on the last day as I was rushing one of my shot rounds. When I called last week the office also told me to not bother making any appointment. Second note: do not listen to people when they tell you that you do not need an appointment. I then waited two and a half hours to be seen by a doctor. He at least said he was sorry!
Did I mention yet that this was my last day in NYC? It was. I had a small list of things to do and it was getting pretty close to the wire as my shuttle was supposed to pick me up at 5pm. So, I leave the doctors at 3 something and head about….126 blocks north to go to the PO by my old apartment to get some box that was sent to me. Then, I had to drop off my prescriptions. I was stressed there too knowing that they don't always have vaccinations on hand. The good news was they did. The funny news is as follows. There are apparently 2 different kinds of malaria medicine prescribed in the US. One you only have to take once a week and the other you have to take daily. Sadly, the downfall of the weekly is that it causes severe and intense hallucinations, nightmares, and periods of psychosis. Only once a week though. Humm….let me think. So, Dr. Man prescribes me a year's worth of the dailies – about 380 pills just for good measure.
Now, back to the pharmacy: they about had a heart attack when I gave them a prescription for almost 400 pills then said I needed whatever they could do right then as I was leaving for the airport in one and a half hours. As it turned out, my insurance actually covered this medicine (they don't cover vaccinations after the age of 18) but only would do 90 days. So, my 90 days worth was originally $700 but I only paid $40. I think that made up for my $100 typhoid vaccination. The best part was when the assistant told me if they filled the full prescription, it would run me roughly $3000.
I have now done all but 2 of my errands and I have an hour to get it done before the shuttle. I rush home and Jackie and Yash help me carry my last, very heavy box to the PO. It is then about 4:30 and I realize I have yet to eat. We get back to the house, I finish packing the last of my stuff, and we get it all down stairs by 5:10. My shuttle ends up not coming until 5:45 so I had just enough time to each the quick snack Yashmeen has made for me before jumping on the shuttle. The shuttle driver was strange, as per usual. He complained about my bags saying they were too heavy and he didn't think he should lift them. I think it shut him up with I told him us 3 girls brought them all down from the 3rd floor just fine. Granted, they were heavy, but it's your job dude. He was grumpy the whole ride but I got to sit up front with one of my bags so that was fine with me.
At the airport, I reread a sign I had seen before that said you can have suitcases up to 100 pounds if you just pay extra. I get to the counter and weigh the bags. One is 65ish and the other is 97ish. The lady tells me that I can't take them. I tell her I read a sign that says I can if I pay extra so that is what I do. The exchange went something like this:
Me: I read the sign that says I can pay extra if they are overweight.
Lady: What? What sign? Where is it?
Me: Ummm…right there at the end of the waiting line.
Lady: No. There is no sign. You cannot take these bags.
Me: I don't have a choice; they have to go with me. I can get the sign and show you.
Lady: (goes to get something) This is the luggage regulations.
Me: (Internal dialogue: "It's the same damn sign you daft twit!") Okay, well, it says I can have up to 100 pounds so I will do that and pay extra.
Lady: I will have to check with my manager.
Me: I will wait.
Then the porter tells me to take some out of the 65er once it is off the scale and he will tell the lady it made weight (50 pounds) so that I don't have to pay extra for it. He apparently is not a daft twit. So, bags get checked. She complained about their weight as well… Dude, I know they are heavy, but they are my burden, not yours. I am not asking you to carry them across the country for me, I have not made you lift them or move them, so get over it. First the Super Shuttle guy and now the airline rep?! I fear this will happen on my next 2 flights as well. Super.
Right, where was I? Ah yes, the airport. So, I get to the gate to only find out my flight has been delayed an hour. I then prove that I am a dumb twit as I have convinced myself I have a 4 hour layover in Vegas before Seattle. In reality, I had an hour layover and with the delay have missed my flight.
That brings us to know. I am here, in the Las Vegas airport. The good news is that I did get on a flight today. The other good news was the flight they transferred me to, which got me to Seattle at 9pm (vs. my original 3am) was NOT the only flight. I am now waiting about 9 hours for a flight to Phoenix and will get into Seattle around 4pm. My question for you is this, "How does this crazy city of sin that never sleeps and doesn't use clocks not have a 24 hour place to get food in the airport?" The answer: they are haters.
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