in limbo

I am in the British Airways lounge in Terminal 1 at Heathrow and have spent the past 45 minutes struggling to get into the office portal so that I can do my timesheet. No luck. Technology is failing me.

Security wasn't as hellish as I thought it would be, but you would think it was if measured by how impolite and freaked out my fellow passengers were. Lots of little old ladies barreling ahead of people in the line, unjustifiably fearful that they were going to miss their flights.

It's funny. I have absolutely no patience and am an anxious sort, but, whenever I am at the airport, I focus on being the perfect passenger, morally superior to the barbarians who act like I do every other minute of the day: like they MUST get to where they are going (physically or mentally) NOW.

By the way, to the woman at the security line who, after feeling me up for no identifiable reason, said, "Lovely," in that perfectly British sort of way, it was good for me too, but you might want to consider a new line.