I made it. Yay. And, it's 27 degrees and a beautiful day in London.
Getting here was a bit of fun as well. I went through the normal ridiculousness of commercial travel and got settled into my seat to find an empty seat beside me. I thought that was a good omen. Until the guy behind me started chatting it up, leaning over the seats to chat, reaching over the aisle to introduce himself to the Romanian women who spoke no English, leaning over the back of his chair to talk with the people behind him...generally just being obnoxious.
Then, he got plastered.
Not just plastered...embarrasingly, stupidly, stumbling s*#t-faced drunk. Where he badgered everyone around him, randomly would shake my seat and reach over to wake me up, pushed the steward, refused to sit down...you name it.
About 2.5 hours into the flight he got read the absolute riot act of airline travel - threatening him with federal prison if he even moves from his seat. That seemed to calm him down long enough for the drugs he took to kick in and knock him out.
In the meantime, the steward was doing an excellent job to diffuse the situation, so excellent that he bumped me up to first class for remainder of the flight.
Full-flat bed and a quick snooze and now it's London-time.