I am in the seventh circle of hell at the Houston airport. You don’t have to have been to IAH to know the place I’m talking about. It’s the waiting area for the small planes that you have to take an escalator down to, with the low ceilings and stained blue carpet. I haven’t read any Dante since college — so this could actually be another circle of hell. What’s the one full of disinterested airline personnel and disheveled passengers whose flights have been delayed repeatedly and then canceled — and toddlers awake at 10pm?

There’s a guy trying to get to Midland who is going to end up having to get a hotel room in Houston for the night, which the airline won’t pay for. I know this because he’s been voicing his displeasure very loudly for the last thirty minutes. I’m glad Asa’s not here because I’m not familiar with all of the swear words he’s stringing together. His favorite right now is “This if F*$! – ing Buuuuulll-sh*$!!” He really draws the “bull” out when he says it. Midwest accent I guess.

…

Right after I finished that last line, my departure was delayed. I didn’t end up getting to the hotel here until 1am. I’m inhaling coffee right now while I wait for my ride to the REI. I’m at a Fairfield Inn. Check out the art in my room.

Yeah, they’re the same print.

This was on the desk.

I’m going to use the Rice Crispy treats for airway obstruction practice this morning. Always thinking of the students. 🙂

Run log: 50 minutes

Food log: soon