When you wake up at 5:20 a.m. (after also waking up at 12:30, 2:40 and 4 a.m. out of fear of sleeping through your 5:20 alarm) to get to the airport by 6 a.m. for your 7 a.m. flight and there’s no time for breakfast or for coffee, you know it’s not going to be one of your better days.

When you arrive at the small regional airport in central Illinois to discover that the wheel on your rolling suitcase that was a little wobbly on your initial trip is now getting caught in every single sidewalk and flooring crack and that the only food service available are coin machines that give you a choice of either strawberry or s’more Pop Tarts for breakfast, this is confirmed.

When you are randomly selected in this small regional airport as the only person to receive the special security screening you do not feel lucky. Nor do you feel lucky to see that both of your flights are completely full and that both of your seats are in the noisiest part of the planes.

You do feel a little lucky that you have aisle seats, but this is later dashed when your seat mates seem to have bladder problems which require you to get up and let them out and back in a total of eight times. 

You do not expect meals on the planes, but you hold some hope for pretzels. Although not for long.

Your layover is short and the distance between terminals is long, meaning that your lunch is no better than your breakfast and consists of a snack bag of chips and a Pepsi at a total cost of US$7.48.

When your two checked bags are the last two to arrive on the baggage carousel, you are not the least bit surprised. Nor are you particularly surprised to discover that the wheel on your rolling suitcase (that just barely came under the 60-pound limit) has now come completely detached and that the suitcase will not roll. You are surprised that you can carry it, even if it does mean you have to stop every three steps.

When you walk outside of the airport in the long pants, wool socks, closed toe shoes, long sleeve shirt and sweatshirt that were appropriate in Illinois, you discover that you are completely overdressed. Both for Guadalajara and for lugging two suitcases, one carryall and one purse.  

When you arrive home, you realize that you have crossed no time zones but have somehow made nine hours feel like 20. All you want to do is climb into bed.

But you have a column due.