Got up around 7, left for airport, trafic on 580, 238, 880. Toll on 92, got to airport, found out flight was with United, got to building, there was a big group of Asian businessmen (I say man because there were no women, not one, and they were all in black suits). Had to use a damn machine to check in, then got my ticket, went through security, went to gate, got on plane, flew, waited in Chicago, ate at gimicky restaurnat. Well, I ate in at the gate, but I bought food from the restaurant. I also had a spinach and cream cheese omelet for breakfast. Ir was really weird.
I got to DTW, missed my rental car bus, then got on the next rental car bus, then got to the rental car place to discover that my car was the awful PT Cruiser [aka the reason Chrystler is going out of business]. The seat wouldn't lower either, so I felt like a giant in the car. Back in San Diego last November, I remarked to a cousin that I might want to drive a PT Cruiser after having a frontal lobotomy. Well, I guess I just had one. I got to the hotel, after turning around TWICE and going to the wrong building, but I checked in, met with my partner for this trip, then ironed my skirt and went to sleep.
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