An Extreme and Unrelenting Case of Airport fever

I seem to have an extreme and unrelenting case of Airport fever. Not only does it come in big whaps in the face, it literally effects me every time i'm traveling. Every time. I'm not able to simply successfully check in, find my gate, board the plane, and make my connecting flight; oh no, that would just be too easy.
A few years ago on a trip to Los Angles to visit my father during the summer, I had about a... half hour lay over in the Atlanta airport, (which is massive by the way) I got off the plane from Asheville and booked it because, well, everyone always told me to find your gate first and then dilly-dally. So, I ran around for about ten minutes trying to find the gate and after running up and down several escalators and taking a fast-train to the other section of the airport, I realized that was running faster than felt natural... I forgot my suitcase. With about fifteen minutes to spare I ran as fast as I could back to where I had come from, grabbed my suitcase, and ran. Honestly I didn't know where the hell I was going and ended up having to call my step-dad for help. I was then followed by a man shouting "HEY LADY" for the longest time. Frankly all it did was freak me out and cause me to run faster until I finally took a peek behind me only to find a poor man out of breath, hobbling at this point, behind me waving my jacket around in the air.
I had dropped it. Poor guy. What a nice person. (By the way this exact issue with the jacket happened today in the airport except for several large women who worked at the airport just screamed "Maim... Maim MAIM. MAIM. MAIM!!!!!!!" At me as if I was the only fucking maim in the building and I finally turned around to see what the commotion was. After picking it up and profusely thanking the obnoxious people, one of the women proceeded to furiously pat her head and stare at  me with her eyes quite wide.)
Well it's a mystery to me still what the heck she was doing there. I'm still wondering about it.

Also I wish the Hispanic women behind the counter right in front of me could realize that when she looks me up and down, leans to her co-worker and says the word: "GRANDE", I know that she's saying i'm tall. I'm not deficient.
With jet lag under my belt and Carolina air welcomed into my lungs, I think i'm ready for a hot cup of tea, a bubble bath and maybe some How I Met Your Mother. Spring break is coming to an end and I will savor every last piece of it until it's over. I will end here with a short series of improvisational haikus.
Ehem...

I do prefer cars.
I'd rather not fall from sky.
With tons of strangers. 


I can't find my way.
Candy is too expensive.
I want more candy. 


Asleep with water. 
Spilled it in someones sandals.**
She used a napkin. 


Woke up to early. 
I went to bed way too late. 
Refrigerator. 


-TRA


**Yeah also last week on the way to San Francisco I fell asleep with a cup of water in my hands. I jerked awake and I had spilled the entirety of the cup into the women next to me's sandal. HAH. (cough, cough,  *EUCAF* [extreme and unrelenting case of Airport fever])