O'Hare is the bane of my existence

This morning I flew back from California to Chicago at 4 AM Pacific Time. The most entertaining part of the journey was when we were landing and there was a kid a few rows ahead of me mightily screaming "SOMEBODY...ANYBODY...HELP ME! HELP ME! ANYBODY HELP ME! HEEEELP MEEEE PLEEEEEEEEEASE ANYYYYBODYYYYYYYY!" with the mom trying to shut him up. I enjoyed this so much, and I had to go pee so badly, that I didn't even notice what airport I landed in.

I didn't think twice when I ran into the bathroom and the stall doors opened inwards. Not outwards. I didn't think to stop when I started to notice that this airport is really big. Too big for Midway. And I somehow managed to ignore the fact that the SAME MURALS were showing up at Midway AND O'Hare. Because I was ecstatic over landing in Midway and not at O'Hare, and I was floating on Cloud 9 through the airport.

It was only when I got to the regional bus station that I started to suspect something was amiss. Where was my beloved 55 bus that would drop me off basically right at my doorstep? Where was that weird overpass thing to the airport? There are only hotel buses here! And buses to far away places!

It is then that I had an epiphany:

"Wait a second...bathroom doors opening inwards....murals painted on the walls like at O'Hare...the woman next to me had a connecting flight at O'Hare...shit. Damn. Shit."

So then I had to dash to catch the Blue line and sit festering like a contagious cankersore on the train because I was bitter. I was angry. I was ENRAGED. As everything fell into its proper place, 1+1 now equaled 1 hour and 30 minutes instead of a mere 30-45 minutes, and I had a class at 2:30.

The Blue Line, as usual, was slow. Really slow. So slow that my rear actually assumed the shape of the seat I was in, and my skin started to slough off. There were times where the train just plain stopped and did not move for several minutes at a time. It was at these times that I wanted to get onto the platform and scream "For Godssake move, or I will show you what sort of impromptu bomb I can construct with face cream and mascara."

By the time we actually entered the Loop, I noticed that I was clenching my fists and toes as hard as I could, and I was squeezing my jaw shut. This was so that I would not bite the passenger nearest to me. And then I started to think about how I could never, ever be good at yoga.

Last quarter when I was taking weight lifting, this exercise let me release some therapeutic grunts here and there. Not that I grunt. I just snort while I laugh. But at least I had the option. Last Thursday in yoga, we did an exercise where we (ever so silently) clenched ever muscle as tightly as possible and then released. While I was clenching, the following went through my head: funny, this is how I feel for most of the day. I never thought I was a tense sort of person, but I did just sit through 45 minutes imagining how I could rip the El poles out of the train, bend them, and then start shattering windows right and left. Or how I could use the driver as a battering ram to create my own tunnel.

By the way, I had a very nice time at the wedding. A very RELAXING time. During which I could even manage to smile. And it looked like I combed my hair.