Wake up at 6 to get ready to leave at 7:30 for 9:30 flight. Interrupted by fire alarm at 6:45. (I'm in the shower, so fire wouldn't be a problem, except I'm at the part where you're sort of soaped up but definitely aren't clean.) Evacuate dorm after throwing on yesterday's clothes. Return to dorm, shower, finish packing, leave at 7:50. Running late.

Get to airport. Learn that 9:30 flight is canceled, and "we can book you on the 12:41 flight." Sit at Gainesville Regional Cow Field/Airport for four hours. Become so bored that I call my mother. Twice. Running early.

Catch earlier flight to Atlanta because I'm on standby. Get furthest seat from the front. Become nauseated, and not just because adjacent bathroom has its door fly open on takeoff. Come within moments of vomiting; recover with aid of Will's novel, Catch (more on this later), and some deep breathing. Arrive in Atlanta. Running early.

Take train from Concourse D to Concourse E; it dawns on me around Concourse B that I would have been better off walking. Find food court; buy food; race to gate. Choke down stromboli and realize that airport salad isn't actually salad. Hear that my flight to Boston is delayed for a security sweep. Realize that my iPod is missing. Scout for it; preliminary search of backpack reveals nothing. Commit to scouring airport as second delay, for "maintenance," is announced. Running late, but at least this time it's mostly the plane's fault.

Leave gate and hit two information desks en route to gate of arrival from Gainesville. No dice on the iPod there, so I decide that catching my flight to Boston is a better idea than finding an older iPod. Return to departure gate to find literally four people sitting there and a different flight manifest on the screen. (Swear gutturally.) Learn that flight gate has changed. (Swearing redux.) Embark on journey to Concourse B. Running, just generally.

Arrive at new departure gate. Learn that flight has been delayed again. Call Rockette because she's supposed to be at the airport around 5:00, and my flight might just be over Charlotte by then. Phone croaks immediately after leaving voicemail. (Awesome.) Sit down for first time in what seems like hours. Fourth delay of the day on ATL-BOS flight occurs. (Two flights to Boston with later departure times than my original leave with no problem while I am hunting for Carmen Sandiego in Hartsfield.) Running schemes for hostile takeover of Delta through my mind.

Finally board plane. Am assigned same exact seat in back of plane. Brace for more nausea. Unexpectedly get two seats to myself, plenty of quiet time to listen to the latest Simmons podcast, and, in my own special delight, a trivia game in the seat screen that is playable from just over Atlanta to wheels down in Boston. Finish Catch, too.

Disembark plane in Boston. See Rockette. Smooch Rockette.

Realize it's all worth it.

And that's really about it, though, somewhere in there, I noticed that "coinkydink," which I used in ThursDUAN, and the Paul Shaffer/"It's Raining Men" factoid both appear in Catch, and audibly asked Will to please vacate my cerebellum.

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