As I was preparing to fly to Germany from Italy a few years ago, I discovered that the airport I was flying into was the wrong airport, and it was a 5-hour drive away from Nuremberg, where I was visiting. Mind you, I realized this just a few hours before I was supposed to leave to head to the airport. I freaked out and instantly became stressed. I was able to figure everything out and still make my trip, thankfully.
The only person I got mad at was myself for not double-checking that I was flying into the correct airport. It was no one else’s fault but my own. And yes, it was also extremely hot. Didn’t punch anyone, though.