the space between

There are no fewer than five distinct ways for me to fly between Denver and Toronto, on the airlines with which I currently hold tickets for that specific purpose. But because Expedia booked my travel as two separate round trips, neither airline will break off the autoproctophrenology long enough to get me home a few hours earlier, by filling seats that would otherwise be empty.

I love air travel.

Made it to Toronto uneventfully, but I won’t make it to Kingston until something like 1AM.

Tyla has a job interview tomorrow. I’m excited, and she must be beside herself with anxiety and hope. Wish I were there, hon!

My battery is about to die, having valiantly given its life to send the sounds of Dave Matthews to my ears during this almost-over bus trip. Also, my headphones are killing me. G’night.

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