In hindsight, I should have accepted the sign when the universe sent it. Because, honestly, it could not have been clearer.
I mean, my plane caught fire in the air.
And nothing says "today is not your travel day" like electrical fires that cause smoke-filled airplane cabins after takeoff.
But thanks to my stubborn streak, I refused to accept the omen. And after a fairly boring two hours that involved several truckloads of firefighters in full gear, maintenance said the catch-y fire plane really was fit for flight. They asked us all to get back on board.
So I did.
I mean, I had to be in Greenville the next morning for the Clemson University Global Tire Industry Conference. And yes, I missed my connection from Charlotte. But I had managed to reschedule and get a seat on the last flight to Greenville late that night.
Things were looking up! Sure, I'd have to sit at the airport for eight hours, but I was going somewhere, right?
Turns out, no.
Fifteen minutes after finally boarding that last flight out of Charlotte, the crew asked us all to leave. The flight was canceled, they said. Mechanical issues.
That was the last sign I needed. I gave in and did what the universe wanted.
I Ubered from Charlotte to Greenville.