Why I'm not yet above the Pacfic

Here is the story of my day:

7:00AM- Wake up to a phone call from my mother who warns me that my layover in San Francisco is only 50 minutes. After a phone call to United Reservations, I am assured that 50 minutes is enough time to make the transfer.

3:00PM- Leave apartment for the airport in a taxi. I'm not sure how long it will take to get to Logan and through security, but I should be there in the two hour recommended time.

3:40PM- I'm at the gate & ready for my flight at 6PM. Time to send a text to my mom, bragging about the speed and then to check emails.

3:47PM- Phone call from my mother giving me more unwanted advice about making the international connection in San Francisco.

5:57PM- 1st leg of the trip boarded on time and is taxing towards the runway. The pilot just came on to announce that Boston Central's radar has shutdown and Air Traffic Control is running on a backup. More details in to follow in 12 minutes. Connection window is now only 38 minutes long.

6:23PM- 15 more minutes until another update, now only 25 minutes to make the connection. I've heard San Francisco is a beautiful city, maybe I'll get a chance to see the Golden Gate Bridge when I'm stuck there tomorrow. The next SF - SYD flight doesn't leave until 10:20PM on Thursday night.

6:45PM- Another 10 minutes. Both engines on the plane have been shut down to save on fuel and we are 6th in line for departure. A few people are giving the flight attendants attitude, one thinks they could be more mature. I'm starting to think about a) getting a flight on another airline or b) flying to Sydney via Los Angeles.

7:00PM- The phrase "creeping delay" is mentioned. Cell phones have come back out on the plane and texting has furiously begun. One man behind me is leaving his colleagues voicemails.

7:20PM- Seatbelts back on, the plane is moving, here is takeoff.

The rest of the story is much less detailed. After the hour delay and a 6hr flight, we arrive in San Francisco at 10:20- the departure time of my transcontinental flight. As I step off the gate, I check a departures monitor to see that my connection was delayed due to weather in Chicago and is not scheduled to leave until 10:45. There is still time to make this. I take off in the terminal, speedwalking towards my destination. I get to a TSA security checkpoint and am allowed to skip to the front of the line. Once past, I run down the escalator and up to the gate. Unfortunately the plane had just pulled away. I spoke with some United employees that were able to find me a hotel room for the night and put me on standby for a flight departing Thursday night.

Once I arrived at the hotel, I set to work finding a faster way to Sydney. Some web browsing, three phone calls to United, and one phone call to Qantas later, I was booked on a United flight from San Francisco to Los Angeles and Qantas from L.A. into Sydney. Perfect, finally. A few confusing moments with Qantas regarding my reservation and catching an earlier flight into LA, I am now sitting at my final departure gate. Nothing but 7500 miles separates me from my destination. Compared to the airline bureaucracy, it doesn't seem like that much of an obstacle.