"The mode by which the inevitable comes to pass is effort."
~ Oliver Wendell Holmes

They didn't let Moby fly yesterday.
After being passed from person to person to person, again and again and again...as in I seriously have a notebook paper with 37 different Delta phone numbers on it...I told the last woman I spoke with last week that although my issue was getting passed on so much, everyone I had spoken with thus far was being wonderful and kind. Everyone felt badly that they couldn't answer my question or help and had to give me yet another number.

Yeah. I'll be calling Delta back today because of the unprofessional, snarky, snotty bitch that I dealt with yesterday, whom, incidentally, I hope gets the worse case of butt-rash in the history of butt-rashes EVER.
E.V.E.R.

Needless to say, once we got back home and I asked my friends to leave...I was a blubbering mess.
Sometimes I think I must ask for far too much in life to have things like this happen.
I know I shouldn't complain...and really, in my head, I'm not complaining.
It's more like confusion, talking out loud.
One dog.
That's it.
One dog.
That's all I wanted to bring with me right now.
Daisy isn't coming, so I just wanted to bring one of my dang dogs over with me, to love on.
I'm baffled that this is and has become so difficult.
And very, very sad.