The post where I talk about Justin Timberlake

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Yesterday morning I woke up feeling like dog shit. And I had an early flight. Like early, early. Like wake up at 5 to be at the airport by 7. AND, I was in NYC, which is east coast time and I’m from Texas where it’s central time, so really it was 4 when I got up.

Which should be against the law.

Anyway, when I first started getting sick I thought it was just exhaustion. I lost my voice and assumed it was because I’d talked to a lot of people this past week. But now I had a sore throat and a wicked chesty cough. I was dreading the flight home because it wasn’t a direct flight. I had a layover in Charlotte. That sucked cotton balls and I wasn’t in the mood. Like for real.

After getting dropped off at Newark airport I weighed my options. Should I suck it up and take my original flight? Or should I go to the American counter (where I knew for SHIZZLE there’d be a direct flight) and pay out the ass for a one-way ticket?

I put my hand on my forehead. I couldn’t tell if I had fever or not, but I was feeling pretty bad at this point. My decision was made. I pulled my ridiculously heavy and humongous bag over to the American Airlines counter and slapped my credit card down and said, “I need to get home ASAP. I’m sick (probably with Swine Flu) and think I might be dying. I’d like my family to see me one more time before this happens.”

After looking at me funny, she put on a surgical mask and then went to work, typing, typing, typing.

(Totally kidding about the surgical mask thing. But she probably should have worn one because I kept coughing. The problem with surgical masks? They’re not sexy. Ralph Lauren should totally come up with a line of designer surgical masks. Isn’t that like the best idea EVER? Ralph, if you’re reading this, I would like 1/2 the credit and royalties. And, you’re welcome for this awesome idea)

So after getting my ridiculously expensive one way ticket home (one of my kids doesn’t get to go to college now, by the way) I went to the gate just in time to board. I would get home 4 hours earlier than I originally would have. And I was happy. But still sick.

I found my seat on the plane, settled in, and then closed my eyes. Minutes later the plane was full and we were ready to go. This was too easy.

Then…

(see? I told you it was too easy)

I smelled something. Something bad. And it was nearby. And I immediately thought, I’m sick and coughing and feverish and achy, but my *nose* still works?

This was a total failure on my sickly body’s part.

I was able to determine that the smell was coming from the row in front of me. So I leaned forward and peered through the seats. And that’s when I saw it. The woman in front of me was eating BOILED EGGS. ON A PLANE. I felt like I was sitting in a box of farts.

And I wasn’t enjoying it.

I sat back in my seat, pinched my nose closed and willed the smell to go away.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, we were landing. Thank God. Also, I may or may not have had a small puddle of drool on my sweater. Whatever. I was HOME.

I spent the afternoon spending time with my family and catching up with friends. That’s when I found out that New York had declared a state of emergency with the whole Swine Flu thing. So basically, I’m probably infected with it. And now I’m going to print souvenir t-shirts that read, I WENT TO NEW YORK AND ALL I GOT WAS THE STUPID SWINE FLU.

I’m a marketing genius.

And also? I’m going to be so rich.

Oh, and how does this post relate to Justin Timberlake? Well, he wasn’t on my flight. I’d like my money back please. Because when you pay that much for a ticket, you should at least get to make out with sit by a really hot celebrity.

PS. Anyone who tells my husband I did this is going down.

PPS. Because I will give you my Swine Flu.

PPPS. I don’t think I really have Swine Flu but I probably do since I accidentally licked the handrail on the subway.