I woke up before dawn and struggled with what to wear. Settled on the standard black pants. We were driving–all of us, in a rented mini-van—so I didn't feel quite so rushed. If I was a few minutes late, they'd wait. But I wasn't. I was 20 minutes early and didn't need to deal with security. So I walked around the mostly empty halls noticing, with slight envy, the people who looked packed for vacation. I got myself a Skinny Pancake egg sandwich and a coffee and I parked it on a bench. We drove to Boston, talked shop and not-shop, got carsick looking at screens. We met with one client, and then the next, and I left both meetings head spinning with possibilities. We piled back into the champagne caravan, plus two—they'd flown in from New York and were hitching a ride back. More shop talk, not-shop talk and discussion about whether to dine sitting at a table or in the minivan. What about a state-line liquor-store stop? Negotiation ensued. An agreement was made: liquor store, sit-down dinner. We left one, then the other, enriched. We hit the road for home. Tomorrow will be more typical. I am exhausted—and totally invigorated.