All I’ve got to say is, “what up free wi-fi!”

So I’m sitting at my gate drinking a Starbucks drink. I almost typed “enjoying” but let’s face it, we’re talking about Starbucks here, there is very little enjoying that nastiness. Where is a Jubala when I need it!?

As I arrived at the curb of the Charlotte airport, Sterling hopped out to grab a trolley to cart my stuff inside. I’m traveling with three action packers (footlockers), a roller carry on, my backpack, and a pillow that is so stuffed with stuff you may as well call it a weapon. The guy that helped us load my stuff was like, “Where you going with all this stuff darling!?” to which Sterling replied, “She’s moving to Africa.” The guy was like, “Dang I need to get in touch with your travel agent! Who is that?” I couldn’t help but reply with the most cliche answer ever, “Jesus.” Haha.

I got to the check in counter and put my action packers on the scales, nearly throwing out my back in the process. The guy told me my bags were overweight. No surprise there. I weighed those things several times and dad weighed them this morning, but the least I could get was fifty-three pounds. I was hot, flustered, and so tired, which I think the guy noticed. As I began asking him how much it was going to be he put his hand up and was like, “hush”. He weighed them and DIDN’T CHARGE ME the overweight fees. Now granted it was only over by three on one and two on the others, but still he could have taken an arm and a leg for those seven pounds. Unfortuantely I did have to pay two hundred dollars for the third bag, but whatever I need that extra pair of jeans yall!

I said goodbye to Dad and Sterling in front of security and made my way through the hot mess that is airport security. They made me stand in one of those sketchy machines that can see everything. Talk about feeling uncomfortable. I made it through no problem, or so I thought. The TSA guys who I will affectionately call John Candy and John Cena. They said that some of the stuff in my carry on looked like trouble and asked if they could look through it. Of course I don’t care if the look at my stuff, I have absolutely nothing to hide. The only bad thing is that my carry on was CRAMMED with stuff. I would put money on it that you’ve probably never seen a carry on luggage with that much crap in it. It has a week’s worth of clothes, a pea coat, seven pairs of shoes, thirty pairs of socks, a camelback water bottle, and maybe even a few bottles of fingernail polish. John Candy and John Cena decided to take everything out. Now I don’t mind except the whole time I’m thinking how in the world am I going to get this thing back together?! There was now a hole in the pag of clothes that I had vacuum sealed. They tested my fingernail polish and my makeup remover (dangerous stuff I tell you) and eventually let me go, but now I had to figure out how to get that stupid thing packed again! Know what I did? I took it to the table where ‘ol John and John were and made them help me get it back together! Ahhh, sweet revenge! In all seriousness though, they were kind and just doing their job.

So Now I’m at the gate enjoying sweet wi-fi and writing you this post. The United Airlines lady just came over and told me that I would have to let them put my carry on under the plane because it was so big. Ha! Fine by me, that means that I don’t have to lift it over my head. Yall know I have no upper body strength.

Pray that I am able to sleep on the way from Washington to at least Dakkar. I may or may not have brought a few extra NyQuil pills to help me out. (Sue me.)

Love yall so much. Thanks for allowing me to serve on your behalf.