I had thought that missing my plane was going to be the big bummer of my return flight to Philly, and it was in the sense that everything that came after it was a result of that missed flight...but when I got to Charlotte I expected to be on another plane within the hour - around 10:30 or so. I made my way to the gate to find that the flight's departure time had been delayed significantly. The new scheduled time? 12:53 in the morning. What followed were four hours of severe tiredness and an overpriced martini. Also a good conversation with M. Eventually, around 12:20 (I guess I could be thankful that it wasn't even more delayed but screw that), we were allowed to board. The woman in charge of the gate started calling out zones, but then was just like 'all zones, y'all get on that plane.' And that's just what we all did.
I was tired, what can I say.
I got to the airport around 2:30 or so and didn't even bother to see if the R1 train was still running. Grabbed a cab and hightailed it to sleepy town, which was very easy...and the infernal birds in my neighborhood, which routinely start chirping from about 3:30 to 7, couldn't even make me stir the next morning.