Not quite right in the head
This story starts with me getting on a plane to go see a concert, and doesn't get any saner from here, so if you're lost already, just stop! Still with me? Okay. Well, it really began back in the planning stages when my friend Jamie knew I was coming to this show long before I knew it myself (I'll never doubt you again!) - but let's fast forward to Tuesday, November 14th!
The previous Friday night in Bangor, I completely blew out my voice yelling (you're at a concert, you're in the front row, you yell, that's your job), so I had had a slightly sore throat all weekend. By Monday, though, it began to get worse instead of better, and was accompanied by some other fun symptoms, so I spent Monday in serious denial that I was coming down with a head cold. Tuesday morning there was no denying it, so I armed myself with all the over-the-counter stuff I could usefully carry and set out anyway.
Flying from one small airport to an even smaller airport means a connection, so my morning went: airport, airplane, next airport, next airplane, next airport; with zinc, vitamin C, ibuprofen and Sudafed sprinkled in just to make things entertaining. When I got to Salisbury, it was pouring rain. I didn't really mind that though, because so far, rainy days that find me in states I have no business being in (Wisconsin, Maine, Maryland) have turned out well for me!