My trip to San Jose

Here is an email I shared with a coworker yesterday. Not something I'm necessarily proud of, but it is my life nonetheless.

Subject: The Morning After

I'm glad my day didn't start in atlanta because I'd still be on the ground.

I woke up at 6:08 for a 7:05 flight. Evidently setting an alarm clock in a druken stupor is not a skill I have.

I get downstairs, grab some cash since I can't wait for a credit card cab, check out and hop in a cab. I get to the airport at 6:15. I've now been awake for less than 10 minutes.

I walk to the delta counter and the line is going almost out the door. So my sorry ass with no delta status walks through the first class line and the person at the counter said nothing. Maybe it was the fact that my flight was to leave in 40 minutes, maybe it was the unbrushed hair, or maybe it was the alcohol still on my breath. She didn't say a word, just processed my ticket and gave me no direct eye contact.

I'm now waiting to board my flight, still tipsy, slightly dehydrated, and so tired I can barely bring my vision into focus.

All I can say is today would not have been possible in atlanta. And I'm the only person I know that wakes up less than an hour before their flight and actually makes it in a post 9/11 world.

Thanks for getting my ass trashed last night. Enjoy your game of golf.