Lugged

I waited on Sunday night for close to an hour at the baggage claim. No baggage. I waited for another half an hour to get to the guy who you do the paperwork with. Then I waited at home. It wasn't a big deal; of everything in there, I most missed my toothbrush and shorts. They promised to call on Monday, and when they didn't, I got just a little frustrated. Then they called -- at 10:20 at night, just as I was going to bed. It was the luggage truck driver, who said he'd be late - maybe 11:30 or so - and asked whether I'd like him to leave it somewhere or to call or ring the doorbell when he arrived. I told him to phone when he got here. Then I sat down with a book. By 11:30 I was very tired - jetlag had me up at 5:30 that morning. By 12:00 I was drooling on my book, and slept for 20 minutes before waking up long enough to get some water and go to bed. I was frustrated again, though mostly tired, and I almost gave up on the driver. However, as an afterthought I brought the cordless phone to my bedside table, in case he ever showed up.

I'm not sure what woke me up; the phone, or my mom running down the hall looking for it. I think it was the phone. I padded downstairs to the apartment building entrance, and thumped and thudded back up stairs while Mom agonized over the noise and the neighbors. I checked my watch before I fell back into bed: 2:00.