As I mentioned, Sarah and I finally made it to France, safe and sound. Our luggage, meanwhile, is nowhere to be found. Somehow, our 24 hours in Atlanta wasn't quite enough time for Delta to make sure that our luggage came with us on our plane. When we were at the airport, they assured us that they would send it via courier the next day. When we hadn't received it as of yesterday, Sarah called their lost-luggage hotline to find out what was going on. It's got to be a bad sign that they have a hotline.

The nice man on the other end of the line told her that they had one of our bags, but they were waiting to send it until they found the other one. Found the other one?! That implies you've lost one of them entirely! Perfect. Thanks Delta. While you're working on getting your head dislodged from your buttocks, I'll just keep wearing the clothes that I've had on for the last 3 days, 15 hours, and 37 minutes.

This isn't any different from my usual routine, but it's the principle of the thing that counts.