MLE and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad morning

I have this post in me bursting to come out, stories of going through old stuff and drives to new places and spending hours with old friends, but this one has to come first.

The trip home to Colorado yesterday could have been worse. But I'm not sure any further mishaps would have made me more miserable or made my mood worse than it already was. After a night of very little sleep (about 5 hours), Hulk and I arose in the dark of QIR's living room and hastily changed clothes, packed our things, ate bowls of his favorite cereal (not available in CO), and schlepped our bags out to the rental car. We didn't have to deal with much traffic (though the metering lights were on on the Bay Bridge and that made things take a little longer). We drove in sleepy silence through the city as the sun was coming up and left the freeway just before the airport to fill up the car.

The getting of the gas wasn't a problem. The problem came when we had to figure out how to get back on the freeway. After a few false starts and wrong turns, we managed. Then Hulk accidentally took the exit to another freeway rather than going to the airport, so we had to turn around again, just after I had mentioned to him about NOT taking that exit but going toward the airport sign. But he misunderstood. And he yelled in frustration and anger and not enough sleep, (and you have to understand, he NEVER yells, and he knows how hard it is for me to be around any man who yells), and I cried, and we managed to turn around. Finally we made it through the roundabout and torturous route to return the rental car and hobbled onto the train thingy to the airport. Neither of us got the special screening for maybe the first time in forever (on the trip out, Hulk got special screening for the pencil sharpener in his carryon - yes, a pencil sharpener. Way to go, TSA! Don't let those terrorists sharpen pencils!) but I was just miserable, exhausted, and cracked out.

Our flight was uneventful. And halfway through the flight I realized that I only had one of the earrings QIR gave me for giftmas, the ones she'd given me the previous night, the ones that were, amazingly enough, exactly like a pair I'd had and loved in high school until I lost one (though my old ones were gold and the new ones silver). I looked all over the plane around where I'd been but couldn't find it. I hope it's still at her house, but after the morning we had I'm guessing it's in SFO somewhere.

The one interesting thing about the flight is that the entire flight crew appeared to be youngish redheaded men. First time I've ever seen an all-male flight crew.

We got off the plane to find our luggage waiting (DIA is actually pretty good for that, having your luggage out mighty quickly) and had to get cash at the only credit union ATM I've ever seen that charges. Fuckers. Then, to get change, part of that cash was spent on a sugar-cinnamon pretzel, all evil white flour and transfats and sugary goodness that I was hoping would tide me over a little while. Of course, we'd missed the bus downtown, so rather than wait another hour for the next one, we took the bus to Stapleton (the old airport) and, of course, had missed the bus from there to downtown, so instead of waiting 40 minutes for THAT bus we took one to the end-of-the-line light rail stop and waited 10 minutes for the light rail train to go, and then we finally got downtown and took the mall shuttle up to the top of the mall. So 3 busses and a train to get downtown from the airport. Despite my cracked-out-edness, I went to work and sat at my desk and drooled in a stupor until 5 PM. I didn't even have the energy to go to the gym.

And of course, last night, I couldn't sleep 'til 1 AM. Which is why I am feeling cracked out today.

Crack is whack, yo.