If you think that the final text bubble thing is an exaggeration of how horribly I type when quickly moving from keyboard to keyboard, it truly isn’t.

Heck, I’m sitting in the Director’s Cabin typing this out right now going at what feels like twenty words per minute.

That’s horrible.

Then consider that some computers here are Macs, which totally throws me off when I need to hit control/command, and I end up pushing key combos over and over wondering why nothing is happening like an idiot.

The worst part of all this is that using all these different keyboards has totally thrown me off when using my own; I now type like a five year old no matter what device I’m using.  There’s a seriously good chance that I could have written this post faster on my phone.

Anyways, camp story:

The campers arrived this past Saturday, some with their parents, some with a bus, etc, but there were a few campers that took a unique way: I drove them.

There were two sets of flights coming in on Saturday, both with campers that I needed to pick up.  One was arriving at 6am, and the other 10:30am.  The plan was as follows:  I would drive home Friday afternoon and sleep at my apartment, wake up at 3, and drive to the airport.  I’d get the fist set of kids, take them to breakfast, and afterwards another guy would get them from me and drive them to the bus.  At that point, I’d go back to the airport, pick up the second group, and drive straight to camp.

For the most part, the plan went off completely without a hitch

…except for one thing.

It was the fourth of July Friday night, and the denizens of Queens apparently love their fireworks.  They love fireworks so much that they fired them all night long.  I don’t know if any of you can sleep with explosions constantly bombarding your ears, but I can’t.

After fours hours of trying to drift off to bed I more or less decided, “screw it, I’m up,” and got in the car.

Fourth of July… yaaaaaaay…

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