I flew home from Cincinnati to Boston yesterday, with a connection in Chicago...
Ug - it was hell. Left the hotel at 8:15 AM. The flight to Chicago was fine, though I feared I would not make my connection. But no worries, right? Because my next flight was delayed an hour...then another hour.
Then we got on the plane in the midst of a downpour. There was a serious storm over Chicago barreling eastward. Then we sat on the runway for two hours. Then we're informed that all flights heading eastward are being canceled, rerouted, etc. Because of the huge storm to the east of us, you see. When we finally do get in the air, the plane flies north to Canada, soars over frick'n Nova Scotia, and approached Boston from the ocean.
I got home at 8:05 PM. I could have flown to Paris in the amount of time it took us to get to Boston after boarding. But hey, who cares. The flight crew were great, the passengers quiet, and I made a great single-serving friend. And I got home on time to get up fresh and early the next morning (thanks to SS for ensuring my chipper-ness in the face of humidity and shoddy panhandling) for my first day at One Ashburton Place!!! They served yogurt at the welcome reception, so I love the joint already.