I AM SO GODDAMNED FRUSTRATED! Lying is beginning to take up SERIOUS mental strain. I mean, earlier today we went to Barnes and Nobel (site of the previous almost find-out), and I was like, lurking behind bookshelves and stuff the whole time.

But that is not even the big deal. The world is conspiring to make it impossible for me to lie. Honest.

They change the arrival and departure times of my trip. Prof e-mails us this, and adds something or other about my terminal number.

This freaks me out. I have no idea what my terminal number is. I (stupidly) ask my mom. Finally, I found it by myself, but now my mom is all intrigued. AND, pissed. It turns out we don't go to the terminal she thought we did, and there is no nearby parking.

She frets about this. She asks to see the e-mail that sparks this whole thing off. I say that I already am off it, and mention that it doesn't have anything really relevant. She frets some more: my mom is really NOT a walker, and she thinks we'll get lost, and blah blah blah because of the new location. She goes on and on and on. I just want to shout at her to drop it, beg her to shut up. I get more and more blustery and abusive, "we have to walk, dammit. That's all." Or "Aren't there shuttles? I'm sure there are shuttles. Look for shuttles. That'll solve our problem." Apparently the shuttles go to hell and back before arriving at terminal 3. She asks (much more imperatively) to see the e-mail again, and I want to cry, or shoot myself. Because how much more incriminating can you get than:

London Program Participants:

I've just learned of changes in flight number, terminal number, and departure time
for our flight out of O'Hare on Saturday, 20 July.

Flight number is now ##### (instead of ####)

Terminal number is now #1 (instead of #5)

Departure time is now 5:20 PM (instead of 5:30 PM)

Although further change is unlikely in regard to our departure, it is still recommended
that you phone 1-800-241-6522 in the middle of the week to make sure.

Also, changes have been made for the return from Heathrow, London, on 10 August:

Same flight number as previously assigned (#####)

Terminal number at Heathrow is #3

Departure time from Heathrow is 10:55 AM / Arrival time at Chicago, O'Hare is 1:25
PM.

Arrival at O'Hare will be at Terminal 5. (NOTE: THIS IS NOT THE TERMINAL YOU WILL
BE FLYING OUT OF ON YOUR ORIGINAL FLIGHT TO LONDON. MAKE SURE ANYONE PICKING YOU
UP IS AWARE OF THIS.)

We'll confirm these return flights before departing London. Anyone planning to meet
you upon arrival at O'Hare should call the confirmation # above to see if there have
been any significant changes.

Enter these changes on your DAILY ITINERARY so you don't have conflicting information.
Again, except for Phoe and Tiffany, I'll be bringing your flight tickets with me.
(Morgan and Jaime are already over there preparing for us a proper reception.)

WM

PLUS, the e-mail's title is "departure change" which my departure doesn't change, but fortunately she didn't see that. Also, I managed to scroll down below it enough, and she didn't notice. She did notice, however, I was trying to hide "Again, except for Phoe and Tiffany, I'll be bringing your flight tickets with me." When she asked me to go back to that point in the e-mail, I wanted to scream. I NEVER lie. I'm the greatest person ever in that respect. Never ever ever ever, except now, and it was a small lie, but I'm being punished. The world is full of people having affairs and cheating the government out of millions of dollars, but it won't let me get away with adding 2 freaking days to a fucking trip. She was like "Why are you the only one who got your tickets?" I was like "Uh....Tiffany got them." "I mean you and Tiffany." *strangled voice* "I don't know. Do you want me to e-mail him?" "No....I guess not."

WHOOSH. Another razor-thin escape. My nerves can't handle it, though. By the time this trip happens, I'm going to be a melted pile of goo. I pray, pray, pray (except I don't. And if I did it'd probably be to the same damn god that's punishing me) that the time moves quickly and this NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN. Speaking of which: though my flight home has a seat number, the one I have on the way there doesn't. I don't even want to begin opening that can of worms. I want to ask the stewardess when I get there and raise holy hell if they try to bar me from the flight because they don't know my seat either. I do NOT want contact with ANYONE involved in my web of lies.

To make insult to injury, I don't even want to type this out until she goes to bed, but she stays up REALLY late to watch a taped copy of Passions (bleh) and some show that's on in the afternoon before that, where some alien ship lands. I'm staying up to type this, because I'll go insane if I don't vent. I probably will anyway. I want to take it all back and never have lied. I want to stop being tripped up by the stupidest things. I want to know my damn seat number without making this worse.

I want to cry.