Today, I had one of those days.
Woke up at 4:45 am, for a 7 am flight from Kennedy to Los Angeles. Assumed the taxi would be late—the company I called tends to struggle with punctuality.
The cab arrived five minutes early.
Entered the Jet Blue terminal. It was an absolute mob scene, and I was quite certain I’d have to rush and sprint to even make my flight.
Was at the gate with 45 minutes to spare.
Boarded the jet and was greeted by a 95 percent full flight. Sat in a full row, alongside someone with sharp elbows and behind someone whose seat was already pushed back. Then, from the corner of my eye, noticed that the row behind me (one back, one over) was completely empty. Also happened to be an exit row (ie: extra leg room). Eyed it, eyed it, eyed it—and when the doors to the plane closed, I jumped into a seat.
For the next six hours, had my own row. Took a solid two-hour nap.
Arrived at LAX, and my bag was one of the first off the belt.
Stood outside expecting the rental car shuttle bus to take an hour—arrived in about 10 minutes.
Walked into the rental car office—no line.
Reserved the cheapest possible automobile—was bumped up to an Audi.
Made a mistake scheduling an interview for too early of a time—”Don’t worry … I’m here all day. Come when you can.”
Was 95 and boiling in New York—it’s a cool, comfortable 70 here in California.