The start of the trip is fateful at best. 4:30 AM. A phone call rudely wakes me up. I grudgingly leave the warmth of my bed. 4:59 AM. I arrive at Seatac International after what is perhaps the emptiest I've ever seen the highway. 5:04 AM. Disaster strikes. My ancient passport is rejected from the automated machine, and I have to be checked in by a human. 5:46 AM. I successfully pass the security screening. The man was actually quite cordial.
5:59 AM. Disaster. Strikes. Again.
As I reach to take a sip of water, the ambrosia of mortals, I realize that I had forgotten my beloved Klean Kanteen at home. My hands grasp vainly at the familiar spot where it normally resided (left right of my backpack). Panic fills my tired body. Gone are the memories of filling water at the fountains of Rome. Gone is the feeling of joy as I sip life free flowing from the aqueducts of old the same way that the Romans did thousands of years ago (assuming they used refillable water canisters - a plausible assumption).
6:00 AM. I drink from the water fountain, in shame. My thirst is quenched. 6:00 AM. I realize that I can just purchase a new bottle.
I think I'm just exhausted from the past two days.
Less than 15 hours till Rome.
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