But I ignored those dangerous thoughts and got out the door almost when I wanted to. The trip to Houston was uneventful. I already had a three-hour layover there, so I was prepared to find my favorite electrical outlet across from the Starbucks in the spacious Terminal E. Unfortunately, though, my flight to Louisville was significantly delayed. By the time I left Houston, I'd already been there for over five hours. Not as bad as the time when I had to spend the night in Terminal C as an undergrad, certainly, but also not my idea of a productive use of my time.
The real excitement started once I got to Louisville. The pilot came on to announce that we couldn't go to the gate for awhile because, I thought I heard him say, "someone was smoking." Since I was
