After a couple days visiting friends, editing, and doing last minute errands and phone calls, it was time for me to hop on a plane and go back home. I had spent my last night in Virginia at a friend's house and was meeting my mom in Fairfax for lunch with her before catching my flight. It's kind of a funny thing, but my mom and I bought our flights two months apart (I actually bought both, since she goes crazy trying to figure out online flights) and it ended up being that she was arriving the day before I was leaving. I hadn't seen her in 3 months, and so we decided that since she wouldn't be back in Spain for another couple weeks we should meet up. Shortly after I met her I realized that I had left my MacBook Pro's battery charger back at my friend's house. Consequently, the time we were supposed to spend together catching up we spent having a very quick lunch, repacking, and driving over to get that charger. Complete with a GPS going crazy on the way to the airport at the very beginning of rush hour traffic. Typical.
Fortunately we did have a tiny window of time to talk in between all that, but not much. I got to Dulles International Airport and picked up my last order of Starbucks and Nicholas Sparks "The Last Song" and happily made it to my gate as my section was already boarding the plane. I will admit that it makes me feel slightly idiotic when I am clearly barely making my flight and I am passing all those other passengers who are already in their assigned seats, carry-on items neatly stored in the overhead compartment, and I am walking around trying not to hit people with my rolling bag, my laptop case, AND carrying a fresh order of starbucks in one hand. I know they're judging me, but it's going to be a long flight and I couldn't care less! Haha. I got to Madrid where I had to wait for my connecting flight and was welcomed by a beautiful sunrise.
By then it was already 7 am and I'd been traveling for roughly 12 hours, so when I got to my gate I sat on the floor, "stole" an outlet, and tried to get a little work done. I swear sometimes I think I should be a member of "Workaholics Anonymous." Fortunately I didn't get to work too hard because a friend called and we talked until I was on the plane and the flight attendant was giving me the "this-plane-is-already-on-the-runway-and-you-are-still-talking-on-the-phone look." Whoops! :P Anyway, I hung up, the plane took off, and roughly 45 minutes later I was in Bilbao. I stood on the curb for about an hour waiting for my dad to pick me up, and it happened to be directly opposite a construction site. I guess I was trying to stay awake while listening to happy music because I was definitely "holding in" the dancing. I also guess I am really bad at it because before I knew it the construction workers on the other side of the road also started dancing! So what do I do? Stop holding in the dancing, of course! Secret's out, better have fun with it, right?! I guess by that point my brain had somehow related the construction workers to those passengers on the plane, because again, I couldn't care less. I danced a happy dance until my family came to meet me.
"Welcome home, Adina."