Banking and yawing

So, in Houston. It took a while to get from the gate to the baggage claim area, and on the way I spotted a McDonald's. I'd like to say I spent my first dollar in there, but I really couldn't be fucked. Leaving the building itself and getting into the outside was a shock to the senses. The heat just hits you. And the moisture. Holy shit.

Anyway, I jumped in a taxi and spoke to the driver. He was a proper nice bloke and drove like the fucking clappers. Eugh, I hate that term. Anyway, pulls up to the hotel at around 6:40-6:50, paid the driver and get out. Yep, the heat. I check into the hotel, get my keycard, find my room (eventually), lock the door and just get as much as I can off me. I mean stark naked.

I turn on the TV, turn on my mobile and get 10 or so messages. Great, that'll cost. After checking my emails (getting connected to the wi-fi was too much of a hassle) and sending an email to mumsy (and updating Facebook) I watched an episode of the Daily Show and Colbert on the netbook. For the first time I didn't need to use a proxy. It felt good. What felt bad, however, was the lack of Comedy Central on the cable. Bastards.

I doubt I would've stayed awake that long, in all honesty. The last time I checked my watch it was about 8pm. The next time I did it was 3:43am.

That's pretty much it. I haven't eaten in ages, and I am hungry, but I think I've missed the free breakfast. There's a restaurant across the way, so I might pay that a visit. There is practically no one in the hotel. I have a feeling I am nearly the only guest. Bang goes my fleeting dream of flirting by the pool. Not that I have any trunks.

I have a shit ton of things to do. I need to get a SIM card, I need a laptop, I need to eat. I need to check my money. I need to nap. I need to stop sweating.

In Houston.