The good news is that I made it to Oxford in one piece, but the bad news is that my luggage didn't and it is currently sitting idly in Chicago. I wasn't too stressed about it - it happens, and I left a roomful of clothes and a fully-stocked bathroom anyway - but then I realized that I've got all sorts of stuff I'd rather not lose in those suitcases. A stainless travel thermos from Atomic Coffee. An olive suit that I haven't worn in years. Season 4 of the L Word. Cute tee-shirts that Marcel and I picked up at Express right before I left. About thirty pounds of very dry books. The framed photos that make my room look less like a Microtel. And worst, power cords and converters for both my laptop and my phone. If I don't get all that back ASAP, it's panic time.
I'd consider getting pissy post haste, but I'm trying to power through the day to get over my jet lag faster and that takes all your concentration when you only get two hours of sleep and then take a red-eye transatlantic flight. I'm about to pass out and bang my face on the keyboard, which would at least draw attention away from the fact that I'm wearing mismatched socks. (I knew I should have left at least one pair at Oxford, and I didn't.) So much for my being put together this time around...
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