Whelp, they lost my bag again

I just got back from a trip and it's a funny feeling when you finally make it down to the baggage carousel and you have to make a mental calculation of how long it would take for a bag to make a complete circuit.  And then you "benchmark" a certain distinctive bag so you know that's the sign of a full revolution so your bag should be found before that grey one with Sharpie graffiti comes around again.

But it's not there.  And if you're Logan airport in Boston, you want to twist the knife a little bit, so you start up the conveyor belt and disgorge a couple more late bags.  It's just enough to make you think: "oh, well, another baggage cart is sending up my bag."  But it's not there.

Now it's time to schlep your way down to baggage services where they'll take down all your personal information so that, if the bag shows up, they can bring it to you.  But probably not Sunday because, you know, that's the weekend dude.

This has happened to me at least twice before and they'll likely find the bag that I verified was marked BOS when I checked in.  In some weird way, this is a clarifying moment: I'll never check a bag again.  I'm going to be one of those people that used to annoy me, the kind that brings their ridiculously oversized bags on board to defy the laws of packing physics by cramming them into overhead bins.