After dealing with a woman at the ticket counter who had the personality of a bag of hair (Editor's Note: yeah that's right, Gloria at Chicago-Union Station, hair. And not even like, Kim Zolciak or Tyra-style classy bags of hair.), she told me that:
- My ticket had never been purchased
- The reservation number I have belongs to someone else (Editor's Note: Jennifer Wasilewski, I hope your trip to Maine was pleasant.)
- Yes, it was purchased.
- I am not Jennifer Wasilewski, and I have never been to Maine.
Otherwise, trip planning is good! I've got all my couches squared away (there are no fancy hotels on this trip), I'm Amazoning three weeks worth of Clif Bars so that I don't have to eat (read: pay for) train food, and I am taking requests for things from Chicago to bring to my hosts (so far: Salerno Butter Cookies).
All is well, all is well.