Let me just say, I hate credit cards. I hate what they represent. I hate how easily they can mess up people's lives with their whispered temptations. I hate how perfectly intelligent people can act perfectly stupid when they have that plastic gold in their hands.
That being said...
I got my very own credit card!! In my name, and everything. Oh, the possibilities...
In my defense, the only reason I applied for one of these dumb things was so I could rent a car in Minnesota next week. This way, my in-laws will not have to pick me up, or drop me off at the airport. It's over 2 hours from their house to the airlines, and with having to get there 2 hours early... UGH!
I hate airports. I don't mind flying (it's hell on my ears though), but I do mind the airports. Get there way early, sit around while fluorescent lighting drains you of any energy, and then the long process of loading the plane, waiting for take-off, the long layovers (or even worse, the really short ones where you have to run a mile to catch your flight), and then finally landing at your destination, hoping all your luggage is there, and then trying to leave the airport -- which has problems of it's own. Like traffic, shuttles to rental places, trying to carry all your luggage, etc.
And I get to do all this with Little Diva in tow. I will so want a cigarette by the time we get to Minnesota.
~Do not expand~
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1 comment:
Me too. Long ass layover in Memphis. Yuck.
I could handle it. I would bring a book. But Little Diva? How am I going to entertain her?
Any ideas would be appreciated.
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