This is a trick question, right?

My eyeballs are burning and the Powerpuff Gurllzzz are almost over, so I'm a gonna share a quick story witchoo and then go nighty.

Yesterday morning I awoke at the beautiful hour of 4-dark-thirty to get to the airport and trek my ass over to Omaha. So I could pick up my manager and drive both of our asses to Des Moines, Iowa. Where we met with a woman, and then drove back to Omaha to meet with a man.

Then we ate dinner.

Then we went to our hotel, checked in, I called home, and collapsed in a heap of tired in the LOUDEST HOTEL EVER ON EARTH. It was so loud I thought there was some lunatic from housekeeping vacuuming the floor above me all night. Weird.

Anyway, I got up again at 4:30 (by now I'm hating my life, wishing I could win the lottery and just SLEEP AGAIN FOR CRIPES SAKES) and somehow drove us to the airport (probably shouldn't have been driving in my impaired fatigue state, but whatever, we made it). Flew back to San Louie.

Since the travel plans had gone all screwball on me, I returned home on Southwest. It's in a different terminal from my departure flight. There are two terminals. They used to be called East and Main, but now I've noticed they've renamed them TERMINAL 1 and TERMINAL 2 and we have all sorts of official-looking signage to help you figure it out, because clearly they think it's hard and they think the public are idiots which in this story is irony.

So I landed in TERMINAL 2, and walked outside where there was a shuttle bus waiting to take me to TERMINAL 1 where I'd parked my car. It was labeled TERMINAL SHUTTLE. Perfect.

As I climbed on board, the driver turned to me and said "Good morning! Where to?!"

"Um, Terminal 1?"

"Alrighty, then."

Uhh?

- H