I like to have a plan of attack when I travel.  When I get to my destination, however, I could not care less about a schedule or itinerary.   Yes, I’m that easy going … unless the Point-A-to-Point-B part has somehow been compromised.

Yesterday’s trip to Berlin about killed me, because at the last possible second everything went impossibly haywire.  My original flight from KC to Chicago was canceled.  “Air traffic control problems” was the official excuse.  Miraculously, I got on an earlier flight (on a different airline) that got me in at roughly the same time to Chicago.  I made my flight with approximately eight seconds to spare.

Cue the gastrointestinal distress.  Where the eff are my Tums?

By the time I actually ARRIVED at O’Hare, I was a raging bundle of nerves.  And if I was stressed, I wonder how my luggage must have felt?  At this point, my new purple American Tourister bag had been shuffled through three different airlines.  I knew, for certain, that my bag would end up in the Antilles … Lesser or Greater was yet to be determined.

No sooner had I arrived in Chicago then I heard an ominous:  “Paging Mr. Mahhh-keeeeey.  Mr. Michael Maaaaahhhh-keeeeey,” said the anonymous voice over the loudspeaker at O’Hare.  “Please come to the Lufthansa counter.”

My spleen exploded.

Even though my e-ticket said I had a seat, United said I was on stand-by.  “We may have a seat for you … or we may not,” said a very ambivalent gate agent.  Eventually I made the flight and got to Munich with a whopping fifteen minutes to make my flight to Berlin.  Normally, that’s a piece of cake … but, whoops, I had to go through customs.  I made my flight to Berlin, again, with eight seconds to spare.

I may have pooped myself a little.

My friend Christian was unfortunately at a trade show and couldn’t pick me up.  So I called my buddy Bobby McGee to come get me settled.  (This once again proves my theory that I know someone in every single city in the world.)  Christian had left keys to his place with a friend of his.  Fortunately, Christian left detailed notes to get from Point A to Point B.  I felt like I was on an episode of The Amazing Race.  Would I ever get to Christian’s place?  And, if so, was there a prize waiting for me?

Eventually, I made it … but not before nearly being hit by a train.  And that was AFTER I tripped and nearly fell in a fountain.  (Don’t ask.)  I just kept saying to myself, “Life is an adventure … life is an adventure … life is an adventure.”

I lost fourteen pounds yesterday in my adventure.  Score.  I’d recommend it over the stomach flu or a tapeworm any day!