Groan

I got optimistic last night, at 2 in the morning, suitcase groaning at its capacity. I convinced myself that the person who checked me in at the airport would be kind and generous with regards to luggage weight requirements. I tossed a reusable grocery bag into my suitcase's side pocket, just in case my plan didn't materialize.

My plan didn't materialize.

At 4:15 am, I became that person at the airport who holds up the line, draining their suitcase of its heaviest inhabitants. I spent the next two flights - and a vigorous jaunt through the Chicago airport - hauling a thin, bulging sack filled with 25 pounds of books, pants, and shoes. I spent a majority of my travel time praying that my bag wouldn't rip or explode out of the overhead storage compartment.

I made it to Albany with no incident, outside that of a throbbing back. Marveling at the ingenuity of wheels on suitcases, I arrived at baggage claim. My suitcase is still in Chicago. Luckily, I have a bagful of stuff to get me through the next few days.