Tales from the Airport (San Francisco Day 2)

After arriving last night and getting my sleep and eating scheduled all screwed up, this morning I woke up with nothing to do until 2pm. How does a girl fill her time? Not by actually working, no...instead I prefer to shop. I found the Stanford Shopping Center, a wonderful open air mall filled with all sorts of awesome stores. I ate a delightful breakfast quesadilla (egg whites only, please) at the Palo Alto Creamery, and then hit the shops. I managed to keep myself to just a pair of new sandals and a boatload of makeup from Sephora, though it was tough. I was helped by my fundamental opposition to paying $50 for a bra. Why the hell you so pricey, Victoria's Secret? $50 for a bra is friggin' stupid no matter how lovely or gravity-defying it may be.

After the deposition, I managed to yet again bump into opposing counsel, this time in a deli where I stopped to wait for my expert to show. It's an awkward dance, this pretending to be nice to the guy I'm duty-bound to crush and leave for dead. But we did it well. Hell, we've been on all the same flights and in the same hotels so far, so at this point if he weren't gay I'd think people would wonder if we were having a thing. Thankfully, I'm not his type so those sorts of rumors won't get off the ground.

Today's deposition went very well, and then it was time for the drive to the airport and the long wait for the redeye. Sadly, it's even longer than previously anticipated since there was some sort of problem with the aircraft coming from Atlanta--so now I have to kill over 4 hours before my flight leaves. How do I do that? Well, let's see. There's a juice bar and a restaurant/bar in the terminal, along with a bookstore and a crappy boutique. I chose to drink. First I had a gin and tonic because they don't have Newcastle. That was a mistake. Once intoxicated, the Pinot Noir seemed like a delightful option. And then once fully drunk the steak frites was an even better option. While I regret eating it, at least it had the effect of tempering the 2 drinks. This means I make far less typos.

I have 2 1/2 hours to go, so I may have to either *gasp* edit a document from work or go buy a book. I hope I can maintain the alcohol equilibrium enough to be able to sleep on the plane, but I doubt it. I see a long, sleepless night ahead of me. Not gonna be fun.

And I get to return home to a driveway that's been dug up in preparation for replacement, and a cat who no doubt is wigging out hardcore and either tearing up the furniture or puking everywhere in retribution. Thankfully a kind soul took pity on him and agreed to check on him while I was gone. But considering that he's my cat's favorite person in the whole wide world (read: the only person kitty actually LIKES), I'm hoping that will keep the revenge puking or furniture destruction to a minimum. We'll see...

Off to find something to keep me amused until I can board and pass out. I am ready for my own bed.