Tired and waiting for the cattle call

I’m sitting at Midway gate B1, waiting for my 7:25 departure to L.A.

I’ve traveled a lot over the past year, and still have yet to master my home-to-airport timing. As I arrived here just past 5, I’ve already had time to visit both nearby booksellers and Life’s Too Good.

Flying Southwest stresses me out. I hate not knowing where my seat is. I managed (thanks to the help of a friend who was near a computer) to get checked in with boarding pass A28. That means I should end up reasonably happy with my seat. It’s the return flight that’s got me obsessed. I’ll be in the air at the start of the 24 hour advance check-in, meaning that by the time I do check in, I’ll probably be stuck in the “middle seat group.”. Not the end of the world for, say, a trip to St. Louis, but hell on earth for a trip from L.A. To Chicago.

I’m going to crack open a Hellblazer trade paperback and listen to “Three of a Perfect Pair” by King Crimson. Less than 90 minutes to go.

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