I am updating from Bradley International Airport, which has free wireless internet access. Who knew? Apparently I am in the People's Republic of Windsor Locks, CT. While the internets are free here, it requires trying several times to get in. Much like Soviet Russia, actually. Since being here, I have done more actual productive work on my paper than I've done in any one half-hour stretch thus far. Apparently panic and the airport are good for my work ethic. I don't know if it's really a work ethic if it's produced under duress. Hrm.
In our latest episode of Disorganization Pays Off, I missed the first leg of my connecting flights because I misread my itinerary. I read "5pm" and didn't realize that it referred to the time my second flight left Baltimore. I was supposed to be on the 1.35 flight out of here. Fortunately, even serendipitously, they'd just added a direct flight leaving Bradley at 5.10 and getting into Portland only 15 minutes later than I was originally scheduled to. What's even wierder is that it touches down in Chicago, which is the route I dreamt I was taking last night in my bizarre Buffy-themed dream about me and all my friends at Reed. My brain is a very strange place, but sometimes it saves me from languishing in the Baltimore airport, and for that I am extremely grateful.
I'm out of New England until Sunday afternoon. So long, suckers!
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