Murphy's Law

You know, the one that says if something can go wrong it will?  Yep.  That's the one that pretty much controls my life, and today is just another example of it.  All I wanted to do was to get home to Chicago after finishing my year teaching abroad (more reflections on said year to come), that's not too much to ask, is it?  Apparently, it is, because the Travel Gods certainly did not make are not making things easy today. 

I knew starting today, that the 1 hour and 55 minute window I gave myself to catch a connecting flight from Miami to Tampa was cutting it close, but several people assured me this shouldn't be a problem (I won't name names, but I have a Facebook status as support).  It shouldn't have been a problem, except that our flight from Cali to Miami took an extra 25 minutes.  Ut oh.  This left me racing as fast I could from my seat in 27A through the plane, up stairs and escalators, running passed and bumping into people while shouting "Que pena!" to the English speaking couple that sat next to me on the plane.  I got to Passport Control, cut a bunch of people missionary group (I know what you're thinking..."karma") to catch up to David who was ahead in line.  Then when it came time to choose the passport line, it turns out I picked the line with the slowest officer ever, who I later saw type one fingered to enter in the information for the girl ahead of me who also happened to have filled out her paperwork out wrong.  Awesome.  At that point, people who had been behind me and had not run and cut lines had in fact gotten in and out of passport control at least 4 people ahead of me.  Damn.  Off to the races again to get luggage, go through customs, recheck bag, go through security again and book it to my gate with about 40 minutes left.  Of course 5 different airport workers told me 5 different places to recheck my bag before I could continue running to security.  I made it through all of that with about 10-15 minutes before plane was scheduled to take off and continued to run until I found the flight information board to find my gate, I was goign to make it after all.  Then I find that my flight had been delayed 45 minutes.  At this point the dripping sweat and ridiculously red face felt really unnecessary, even more so when the flight was delayed another 20 minutes, so a grabbed a wrap from Au Bon Pain, sent a few "I'm here!" texts, and watched Obama's speech on immigration.

Flight to Tampa boarded and the stewardess gleefully stated several times that our short 35 minute flight to Tampa should be pleasant and apologized for the delays.  Except that when we were descending, there was "VIP action" in Tampa, and we didn't have clearance to land.  Turns out Obama was in Tampa, costing me another 15-20 minutes in the air, and getting my landing time way too close to my 4:30 take off from Tampa to Chicago.  Luckily, I was in 10B this time, not so lucky that I was stuck between the bronchitis brothers who hacked their way through our flight while I tried to read Harry Potter y la piedra filosofal.  I got off the plane pretty quick to find that my gate to Chicago was right next to the one I cam out of.  Perfect.  Delayed to 4:45.  Kind of perfect since I was cutting it close anyway, and now I can board with ease.  Except, no one else is boarding yet, and the plane doesn't appear to be here...hmmmm.  That would see to make it difficult to take off in 25 minutes.  As I went to check that I hadn't missed anything and that my baggage would make it to the plane, I overheard the woman at the counter tell someone else that there would be further delays and she would make an announcement soon.  The estimated departure time sneakily changed to 6:00pm and about 10 minutes later we were informed our plane was in Ft. Meyers due to storms approaching Tampa.  Great.  Guess I have time for a coffee and parfait from Starbucks.

And theeeeennnnn they got my order wrong at Starbucks.  Shocking.  Six months since I have had Starbucks, I'm the only person in the place, and they manage to get it wrong.  Sheesh.  It wasn't worth complaining so I attempting to slurp on what they made me and embraced the free WiFi at Tampa International.  And now as I have written this, the delay has extended another 45 minutes, a total of 2.25 hours late, as of now.  Who knows when I will actually make it home, but one thing's for sure I know it will be damn worth the wait.

Why Everyone Should Have a Rosa

In case you didn't already know, Rosa is the sweet woman who comes to clean our apartment every Wednesday, and I love her.  Not only does she do the obvious, like clean and iron, but she is consistently making other little improvements around the apartment and providing ways for us to be more tidy and organized; she's kind of like MacGyver, but older and Colombian.  For example:

• That pesky kitchen drawer that continually slid open for weeks on end?  She taped some cardboard to either side, so now its stays shut, no problem.
• The heap of shoes we had in the laundry room?  Why, she fashioned a shoe cubby from an overturned plastic shipping bin we had lying around.
• What to do with the collection of pens, pencils and markers that David brings home in his pockets everyday...Hmmm.  Well I suppose, if you are Rosa you would take the box from a hard drive that we haven't thrown away yet, put it on its side, and turn it into a pencil holder.  Genius.
• Vase for your birthday flowers?  Cut up a Gatorade bottle.  I actually came home and thought she brought us a vase, until upon closer inspection I realized it was in fact a Gatorade bottle.
• Frozen plastic containers full of water for watering plants without flooding them. 

These are just a few of the genius ideas she has come up with in our apartment.  If Rosa had a blog, I would be pinning her ideas to my "Good to Know" board like crazy.  And you all would be re-pinning them.  (Social media overload?  Possibly.) 

In addition to all her handy fix-ups, I think Rosa may also have special powers.  Every once in a while Every other day, our lock on our apartment gets all jammed so that we have to use the key to unlock the lock while the door is already open so that we can close it.  Sounds confusing, and its a pain in the arse.  However, it never fails that whenever Rosa as come for the day, it is magically fixed when we get home.  I have yet to figure out how she does it and I know if we mess up the lock, it won't be fixed until the next Wednesday.

In summary, we (and our apartment) would be a mess without Rosa in our lives.  She is just another one of the many characters in our Colombian lives that has made our year abroad so much easier and enjoyable.