Curses

My last interview of the season was this week. I am suspicious that this interview was cursed.  

Courtesy of another two inches of snow and a flight that left ages before snowplows ventured out again, I had to drive on rather slick roads. Courtesy of the woman in the red Suburu who felt the need to drive recklessly in both of our lanes at 4:30 this morning, I missed my exit. Courtesy of my abysmal sense of direction, I got hopelessly lost immediately after this. All of this added up to having to park in the airport at the exhorbiant rate of twenty American dollars a day. I like to say it like that... American dollars. As opposed to un-American dollars. They only accept patriotic cash at my airport.  

(On a side note, I just found a bay leaf in my pocket. No idea why it's there.)  

Back to my disasterous trip. I made it to the airport a little too close to the check in deadline and had a lovely discussion with the counter man about the advisability of printing my boarding pass in spite of that. I dashed to my favorite security checkpoint and slipped past the brimming Casual Traveler aisle down the empty Expert Traveler aisle. A middle age couple in Hawaiian shirts proceeded to berate me for cutting in line. I tried to explain to them that it wasn't cutting - there were two lines. Like at the grocery store - just because my line is moving faster doesn't mean I cut. It means you picked the wrong line. And that you probably have a huge carry-on, a laptop in a separate bag still zipped up, shoes that don't slip off, none of your liquids out in a bag yet, a winter coat and a fleece still on, a huge purse, and a backpack that you are planning on stuffing your purse into to qualify for the "one carry-on, one personal item" rule. You earned the slow line. I said it in a much nicer way though.


Boarded the plane on time (hooray!), and then sat on the tarmac for 45 minutes waiting on deicer. Deicer is an important part of the flying experience when one lives in The North. Except someone must have forgotten to place a refill order. They ran out of deicer. I would understand this if I were flying out of Hawaii; I imagine they have little to no need for deicer. Running out during a freak snow storm is acceptable.


However, I live in The North. We haven't seen grass in my neighborhood since November. There is a solid two feet of snow on my yard. My side road has been covered in snow and ice since December. I don't know if the pavement underneath even exists anymore. When we live in a place like this, there is no excuse for running out of deicer. We should have deicer stockpiled somewhere.


The only explanation: Cursed.