AAARGH. I hate Qantas. I hate Alan Joyce. I hate whatever happened that made things get this way. I hate being an anxious, paranoid freak because being messed around like this is killing me. I mean, I almost got a stomach ulcer from the mere stress of flying here and going through customs and security and having to deal with an LA changeover. This is my first overseas trip, I'M NOT EQUIPPED FOR THIS.
Anyway, went to the airport today hoping to get on my booked flight, as I heard Qantas would be resuming flights but told there was nothing leaving New York anytime soon. Nobody was able to help me at the airport, they merely gave me a pre-printed letter explaining that I will have to pay for all my expenses over the next however many days I am here, and I would be reimbursed at a later date. Slight problem. As I was only supposed to be here for three weeks, I only brought a certain amount of money with me and I pretty much have nothing left.
Additionally, Qantas' airport system was down meaning I could not re-book myself for another flight on Monday/Tuesday and would simply have to call and do my best to get through to someone at Qantas. Over the past two days, I have spent approximately 7 hours on hold, never getting through to anybody. I am currently on hold AGAIN, with no response as yet. The lady at the airport pretty much told me that if I simply turn up to the airport again tomorrow I face the risk of not getting on a flight, as other people would have already re-booked. I'm not sure how this is possible.
All in all, everybody has been completely unhelpful. I have to go back to the airport tomorrow, and possibly even stay ANOTHER night and go back on Tuesday. Which means I might not get to Australia TIL FRIDAY. Note: this is apparently the best-case scenario. I was supposed to be home by Tuesday.
What a total mess.
Luckily for me, my cousin and his wife drove me to the airport, waiting with me to hear the news and subsequently are letting me stay at their house. Thank God. The thought of having no family and having to lug my bags around, getting into a cab and having to find accommodation like other people had to would make me want to die. Even more than I am now.
It could be much, much worse, I know. I currently have my own bedroom, bathroom, huge tv and couch all to myself in a beautiful spot in Long Island. So. Slightly less stressed. Slightly.
But am very much looking forward to coming home. My cousin has her engagement this Sunday, and as her bridesmaid I really, really wanted to be there. If I have to miss this because of Alan Joyce...nothing, NOTHING will be enough to compensate me.