*Single Tear

Well, it didn't happen. We got as far as Toronto, and literally, just as we were about to take off for the final leg of the flight - the lights came on and the pilot announced we weren't going anywhere. Everyone groaned and swore. People fought over overhead space. Snowbirds without coats were frantic. Angst. Anger. Disappointment.

It suuuuucked.

The airline put us up in a hotel for the night (a hotel without free wi-fi in the rooms - WTF?!? - so I'm typing this on my lap in the lobby) and we're being sent home at 2:30ish. It could have been worse I suppose - we could have been left to sleep on the chairs and floors in the terminal, eating Tim's and trying not to murder one another - but I so want to be home. Last night was a low point in the trip - I stayed in my room feeling sorry for myself and watching the Scotties Tournament of Hearts. Yes, that's curling - and drama-free curling at that; Jones had it in the bag. Pfft.

One more flight; two-plus more hours of recycled air, cramped legs and holding in farts. Then no more travel for the foreseeable future for me.