start 1350 EDT Fri

Sitting in the airport concourse. Must have been in this chair for... 20 minutes or more now? I tried reading a little of the Linux Mag I brought along for just such a situation, but my brain is just a little too tired to feel like processing the information, no matter how good the articles.

1 hour, 50 minutes until the flight leaves now. We were early in the extreme. We left the office at around 11:30, as the rain was coming down so hard that it had some worried. L had also expressed an interest in trying to switch to an earlier flight to avoid the cold weather in rush hour upon arrival in Denver. That one left at 12:30. Not early enough for that.

Looking over what I just wrote, I am mortified at the skipped words (in my mind, but somehow lost on the way to the page), incorrect spacing, and sloppy writing. I am tired. There is no doubt of that. Right now nothing sounds better than a nice warm bed -- my bed -- drawn blinds, some softly playing cds, and closed eyes. Miles to go before I sleep.

Even as I write, my hand is shaking involuntarily. Like that of one who has had a little too much caffeine. lol.

Just before I began this entry, I did a little ad hoc measurement of the amount of writing I did on this trip by putting the section of filled notebook pages between my two fingers. There's gonna be a lot to transcribe when I get home. I just hope it's all intelligable enough that I can decipher it.

I am SO glad the trip home is finally just about to happen. I've been waiting for this moment all week. Scratch that. I've been and still am waiting for the moment I climb back into Tobias and turn the ignition. That'll be so sweet.

L sits a meter to my right, typing on his laptop, occassionally asking a question about this or that, to which I've usually been replying that I have no idea whatsoever. It would seem that this mis-notion about me being some sort of JavaScript guru has spread a little too far within the organization. Oh well. I'll weather it, as long as I get my bed tonight.

I see... in my future... a high velocity trip through the skies, a happy drive through the city of Denver, a trip to Best Buy, a couple optical discs which store digital data of the audio and/or video variety, and a relaxed evening in the Lair. Last night, I got an invitation via email to join D and C in Boulder to see Wendy Woo (who allegedly really will be playing this time). My reply: "I'd love to, and it sounds like a great bit of fun, but I may or may not be up to it. Deponds on how energetic I'm feeling after the plane lands."

Unless I get a great surge of renewed energy between here and Denver, I don't expect to make it now. Regretable. But then again, who knows? Maybe the coming of night, combined with the dry mountain air drifting down onto the plains will revitalize the adventurous beast within me. One never knows. Still, it's doubtful though.

[B briefly stops writing to chat with L, who has put away his laptop. L asks what B is writing. "Personal thoughts." L comments that this practice is how many famous writers got started. Also, a great trick for getting over writer's block can be to go back and look at what one wrote years ago. Indeed.]

One thing I've sort of regretted about this trip is the way I pretty much left in a tizzy, leaving the folks no flight or contact information to reach me while I was here. Nor did I ever contact them during the duration. The night before I left, mom asked if there were any numbers or anything where I could be reached, just in case. I replied that I didn't know, which was a half-truth. I did not know the number of the hotel, nor was there a phone personally allocated to me at the office, but I did have O's number, and I had the name and street address of the hotel. I did not share them.

I suppose I didn't want to give out O's number because I didn't like the idea of the parents calling in the middle of work, "just to see if you were ok." How embarrassing! I didn't call from the hotel because... Well, a combination of lack of time, not wanting to mess with questions about long distance charges on the hotel bill when expense report time comes, and maybe... this never-ending drive to get out from under the wing. Oh, and one more. A big one: I didn't want them to know about the ridiculous hours I've been working. They'd freak. Think I'm wearing myself out. That I've gotten myself into a rotten job situation, and am being taken advantage of. I can't have that.

I can freak out about it, but they can't. Because then one or both of them would start trying to fix it for me. And I wouldn't object, because I'd silently feel the same way. I would let them try to solve my life's problems. I wouldn't learn to do it myself. Like that college stuff. They did all the paperwork, arranged for all the loans, worked on all the research, and all I did was complacently sign on the dotted line.

Thousands in debt, taking Windows for Dummies classes, neck deep in conservative Christian bullshit. All because I went along with parents' attempts to fix up my life. Have I learned my lesson yet?

Wow. That was an unexpected tangent. As I was saying, I feel somewhat bad that I basicly darted out of the house, having given them no info except that I was heading to "Atlanta" until Friday. And although I didn't say it in my conversation with J, this was all the more reason not to accept a delay back. No info, no calls, and no B back on Friday? They'd be beside themselves. I couldn't do that. No way. Nor would I want to call and say I'm staying Saturday. Reasons noted above.

Well, boarding has begun. Add this to top 10 list of ways to make time fly: Write. I may continue later, when on the plane. Wide awke again now, too. Terminating...

finish 15:20 EDT Fri