I’m about to tell you a long-ish ridiculous story.

I swear there will be a point in the end, and you’ll dig it.  Also, this was originally written last Thursday, before the trip I talk about… didn’t have time to proof and post, so I’m doing that now.  Only want you guys reading awesomeness.  Duh.  Here we go…

Think I’m gonna tell this one in bullet points.

Yes.  Chronological bullet points of the last 12 hours of my life.  Intention: entertainment and education.  Meaning.. go ahead and laugh. Be delighted like me at every single absurd detail.
  • 6:30pm, August 17th—Emails, writing, facebook, old-school Ally McBeal, etc.  Preparation to take boyfriend to airport for red-eye flight.  Admit to boyfriend I already miss him despite still being in his physical presence.  Proceed to make fun of self for said pre-meditated missing.
  • 7pm—Depart homestead, PHX-bound, thinking early dinner date, leisure, BF/GF time pre-drop-off, sweet.
  • 7:20pm—Realize boyfriend has forgotten passport.
  • 7:40pm—Arrive home, obligatory “wow, great trip” jokes, passport retrieved, homestead departure #2.
  • 8:20pm—Arrive at decided sushi joint imagining quiet intimate dinner, delicious fish, and QT BF/GF convo.  This is going to be great.  Enter rave dance club.  Wait, nope, it’s the sushi joint.  Mildly revolt internally at thought of ringing ears and thwarted QT convo.  Get mental/emotional sh*t together, give in to novelty of sushi rave club experience.  All in.  Sake.
  • 9:30pm —Depart sushi rave club after completely delicious fish and convo.  Initial inner coup put down by inner dictator of positivity.  Result: super-awesome fun funny connected QT time.  Yes!  Happy.
  • 10pm—Drop off boyfriend. Smooches.
  • 10:05pm—Drive to nearby pal’s house who is out of town.  Intention: crash here for 7am flight next morning.  Save time, save gas. Efficient and eco-friendly. Good plan.
  • 10:30pm—Arrive at pal’s house.  Holy crap, house boiling.  Current temperature, 97 degrees.
  • 10:31pm—Find pal-house AC unit.  Click 97 down to 75.  Phew. Tank top and shorts.  Sweating.  Fill Nalgene with water, re-hydrate real-time.
  • 10:41pm—Dang, still freakin hot in here.  Reach up to ceiling vents.  Air?  No air?  Um… no, it must be working.  Computer.  Work emails.  Nalgene.
  • 10:51pm—Question speed of inferred cool-down due to fact that pal-house still an inferno.  Hot computer? Side room have no flow?  Listen to Spidey sense that something is amiss.  Text boyfriend for girly help with AC unit buttons.  Send picture of buttons to boyfriend per boyfriend request.  Execute multiple button-pressing sequences.  Through BF/GF text teamwork, ascertain unit must be working.  Commit to patience.  Current temperature, 97 degrees.
  • 11:05pm—Complete work emails. Computer closed.  Patience for physical realization of cool-down growing thin.  Close eyes and try not to think of inevitable exhaustion at 4am wake-up call.
  • 11:07pm—Holy f*ck it’s f*cking hot in here.  No, think good thoughts, relax, think sleepy sheep. Gotta sleep.
  • 11:17pm—Can’t f*cking sleep, it’s too f*cking hot in this room, F*CK.  Note main room with tile as slightly cooler.  Opt for sleeping on leather couch.   Lay out beach towels as couch sheet.  Fan on.  Current temperature, 97 degrees. Text best friend to discuss ridiculousness of current scenario.
  • 11:25pm—Realize in darkness I am literally cooking in pal’s living room.  Figurative leftover pizza sizzling in figurative toaster oven.  Seriously consider sleeping in car for air conditioning.  Entertain rational concern of car overheating, and irrational concern of carbon monoxide asphyxiation despite car being outside.  Continue to text best friend growing ridiculousness of current scenario.  Given love of all things ridiculous, this actually improves my mood.
  • 11:26pm—Entertain saying F this, and leaving immediately to sleep on floor in airport AC.
  • 11:27pm—Realize motivating aversion to dehydrating to the point of beef jerky.  Say F this.  Reset pal-house AC unit to 97 degrees.  Note irony.
  • 11:37pm—Depart pal-house.  Determine immediately it is in fact cooler OUTSIDE.  Current temperature, 103.  Pal-house AC unit not to be trusted in multiple areas.
  • 11:41pm—Hit open road.  Allow car AC to bolster spirit.  Feel empowered at coming up with and executing non-conventional solution.  Feel empowered at decision to not shrivel into beef jerky, and instead embark on midnight adventure.
  • 12:05am August 18th—Arrive at airport exit on freeway.  See detour signs.  Muse on fact that I now have less than 4 hours to sleep, and instead of typical easy airport arrival, I now must navigate a massive roadwork round-about detour.  Instantly crack up.  Finally get the joke.  I LOVE jokes.  This whole situation is the joke.  Even when the lead-up seems to be teeing up a big fat crap night and next day of stress and exhaustion, the punch line is instead a brand new hilarious blog post, 8 pounds lost in water-weight, and a sweet life lesson.
  • 12:20am—PHX East Economy Lot… sweet parking space, sweet me-time at bus stop taking pics to post with this here ridiculous story.  Wave of inspiration.  Nalgene.
  • 12:35am—Bus arrives, sweet.  Tired, but so totally peaceful.
  • 12:50am —Terminal 3, sweet.  Wife-beater and mini-skirt less than ideal for sleeping in public.  Change into warm travel outfit.
  • 1:05am—Settle into sleep-time floor space across from Delta check-in counter.  Hook purse and backpack on arms.  Close eyes for long-anticipated zzz’s.
  • 2:04am—Freezing.  Toes cold in flip flops, long sleeve shirt would be good.  Half asleep.  Note irony…  zzz…
  • 2:44am—Brr it’s cold… hahaha… zzz…
  • 3:18am—Dang, ok it really is cold.  Rally, bust out sneakers, socks, and long-sleeve.  Drag all luggage to and fro bathroom.  Re-position sleep area.  Ahh, it feels good to be warmer… zzz…
  • 4:01am—Wake to text from boyfriend safe in DTW.  Delta desk stirring. Wake up, get up, check-in.  Window seats for sleep.
  • 4:35am—Through security.  Peaceful airport stroll.  Nalgene.
  • 5:12am—Early-morning life-coaching client call.  Yes, I am this hard core.  I swear it really is how I roll.
  • 6am—Pic of the sunrise.  Text best friend and boyfriend harrowing tale of survival.  Comedy.
  • 6: 30am—Board aircraft for Minneapolis, and here we are.
So why did I want to tell you this ridiculous story?  Well, I guess it’s kind of like the movie Risky Business… sometimes you just gotta say, what the f*ck.  And I know in the movie that quote is relative to doing things we want to do, but for which we don’t necessarily have the immediate courage.  In this case, it applies to problem-solving.  Solutions.  Perception of problems, or lack of control.  Who knows and who cares what the best solution is going to look like?  Who cares if things don’t go according to plan?  In fact, that’s where the adventure lies.  That’s where it’s most fun if you let it.

Why does it feel so good in some situations to just let go, and entirely go with the flow?

Accepting everything that comes our way as what makes up our awesome life?  In my case last night, the fun was laying in a pile of luggage at 3:18am, rockin’ my sleep mask and earplugs while the late-night maintenance crew vacuumed around me and the escalator voice said, “caution, the escalator is ending” every 5-7 seconds.  Certainly not ideal… in fact, it’s so not ideal, it’s downright hilarious.  Another awesome story in my repertoire.  Love it.  This morning, I’m happy to say that I am not beef jerky, and I still get to sit in my first class seat today, and fly in the Montreal wind tunnel with my girls tonight.  Embrace it.  Embrace it all.  Life is f*cking grand.  Love the detours.


(Fully embracing the sushi rave club. Clearly we are very hip and happening. And blurry.)

(Hahaha… what can I even say about this pic? Proof of absurdity and inspiration. And of course sweet overt product placement. Thank you, Nalgene!)

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