Return to Normal, situation fucked up

Let's look at the expectations: Day one Sunday- nice leisurely train ride to Chicago, art, cultural center, a shoe store the size of Costco, great breakfast at our favorite place, Lou Mitchell's, a wonderful bookstore Unabridged Book Store on North Broadway, check in at our conveniently located hotel. More of the same  to come on Monday with our favorite, Patricia Barber, at the Green Mill that night. And Tuesday too, Only thing, the only thing, was at about 5:30 Sunday upon awakening from a little siesta, Kim asks me for her little blue pouch with her insulin and her post cataract surgery eye drops. Only problem is, The Onliest Problem, I left that pouch at home on the coffee table next to the pullover I took out of my backpack. Well shit. The only train to Normal that night was leaving at 7. Now it is nearing six so we bolt, like Jack and Sandy in the Out of Towners. Only matter is, I have been nursing a fever since the day before. We reach the terminal downtown where I ring out my shirt.  Only deal is there are no seats says the ticket woman. But the supervisor finds three available if we pay the difference. Since I am considered a senior and look like a senior senior at this point,  with temp climbing, we are able to get on with the first batch and sit together. "And sit together" being the highlight of the afternoon. The whole ridiculous thing, loss of hotel room, insulin, Patricia Barber, sleep, etc, was so over the top that Kim and I began to laugh. What else was there? We did buy new running shoes at Galactic World of Feet, left our old ones in the room along with Kim's socks and bras. Chica-go we loved you.