Thursday... the longest shortest day

Thursday morning I woke up and quickly finished packing. Set my bags by the door and headed out to work. Despite the fact that I couldn't talk (still) it was going to be a good day. It was the last work day before Christmas, and I dearly needed a break. No offence, love you all, but... you know what I'm saying.
I showed up early with a hop in my step. My phone was dead, but Matt let me use his charger to boost the battery. The planks got glaized and I went to meetings. Lunch time came and the day was still determined to be a bad one, because it had tried so hard the day before. I had a couple of errands to run today as well, but only got one done. When I got out of the meeting, no one was in shop. They'd all gone to lunch, so I ran back to my apartment, cleaned the Chins' cage (I really do need a bigger one), and loaded them up in my car. The car didn't start. I tried again. Still nothing... Hope! A clicking sound, so it was just the battery (I think). I call up Dusty and ask her if she minds picking up the chins instead of me bringing them by. She was such a sweetie and did so. She even dropped me off at Smokey Bones, right in time. Everyone was getting their checks. So, I quickly washed up and headed back out with them. Chris was a dear and had ordered me some food ahead of time (when I called in to tell him I'd be a little late I told him what I wanted). I got back, started typing up the meeting minutes, got planks moved, and the paint area somewhat cleaned up (even though I know it needs more), and cleaned up myself a bit. I had, sometime durring the day of glaizing, gotten paint globbed in my hair. When I walked out, I was a vision in pink. Chris took me by the house, we loaded up my luggage, and headed to the airport. I got there with plenty of time. The plane, was late... by thirty minutes. I only had, originally, 45 minutes between flights. So I was very very worried. The person beside me had even less time. I hope he made it. I barely did. I power walked as fast as I could. I got to the right concourse right when I heard the last call announcement. I started to run... on about 4 hours of sleep over the last two days. Not a good feeling. My bag kept falling over and I kept yelling out profanity... but noone heard it because my lack of voice. I got there, and luckily someone was arguing with the ticket man about an upgrade. The lady at the counter shouts behind me where I was headed "London Gatwick! Flight 58!" She doesn't say anything back. The ticket man was not happy to see me, and didn't want to give me time to get myself together, but my ticket was out, so he had to at least run it. I was allowed on, and he closed the door behind me. I looked a wreck, I'm sure. I was not in the greatest of moods, but I'd made it. I couldn't sit with my bag because all the seats had filled up space, so a nice young couple volunteered some space around their seats. The seat I had booked had people all around it, but I had spotted an empty side set of seats on my search for luggage places. I quickly moved there, and passed out. Actually I stayed up long enough to get dinner and watch a little of the movie (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory), but then I streatched out and slept through breakfast. Luckily I had packed the Slim Fast snack bars, which provided me with just what I wanted. I layed back down for another nap, and then we started to land. And Friday starts...