The Chautauqua Writer Workshop kicks off this evening with the opening banquet.
My scheduled flight gave me just enough time to change before it starts, so I spent much of last night debating whether to pack my dress in my suitcase or whether to figure out a way to carry it on. I had this horrible, unshakable feeling something would go wrong, most likely that my luggage wouldn't arrive, given a short layover in O'Hare. How important was the dress?
Turns out it doesn't matter, because the thing that went wrong wasn't with the luggage. It's with the flight. It was canceled.
Instead of madly dashing through O'Hare, I'm sitting in Omaha waiting to start my journey. I'll arrive four hours late and miss the banquet completely. But at least I'll be there in time to socialize with the other people staying at my hotel, familiarize myself with my schedule and other orientation materials, and, most importantly, to begin the workshop itself tomorrow morning.
All thanks to the heroic efforts of my husband, who spent an hour on the phone getting me rebooked this morning.
So here's to an amazing week. I'm sure it will be all the better simply because it actually happened.