It would seem a natural thing for an airline to, oh, I don't know, pay attention to the ramifications of a delay in a passenger's flight before taking that passenger's luggage, placing it on the runaway train we call a luggage conveyor belt, and dooming said passenger to at least 24 hours of separation from said luggage.
It would seem. Oh well, at least I was able to take a shower last night, use deodorant today (nice thing, since it's HOT today), take off the clothes I'd been wearing through 2 really long days, and run a brush through my hair.
Not that I spent much time getting ready, after waiting around until midnight for the bag I checked in 36 hours earlier in Charlotte. But you know, I could now fix my hair and look presentable. In theory.
All things considered, though, I'd much rather that I was the one on the flight home to San Diego and that I was the one who saw my family Sunday night and that I was not the one rolling from conveyor belt to conveyor belt looking for a way home. Much better that, of the two of us, it was the bag which got lost in the shuffle. Or I'd be one mad mama.
And on a positive note, I got to practice all kinds of nice thoughts, letting go of bitterness, and letting God have control over the consequences I wanted to exact on the employees in Charlotte. So, really, if I had practice time with things like those, the experience of losing my bag wasn't all bad, right? Just a wee bit smelly...
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