Daylight. No rosy-fingered dawn, this; the transformation of the sky over the past few minutes has been from cold, brittle darkness into cold, brittle light. True to form, I’ve emerged from my pre-trip all-nighter fully packed (just in time), and barely awake enough to drive. In just a few minutes I’ll be heading out to the airport to grab a flight to New York.

B. will be at JFK, waiting, hopefully, to carry me and my luggage home.

Obviously, I’m looking forward to the weekend. I have been, for several weeks now. No doubt we’ll dine with mattereaterlad and valerie, the newly settled. Perhaps I’ll visit ground zero for the first time, before they turn it into a park. Maybe, if fortune smiles, I’ll even get enough quality alone time in.

So then why am I sitting here in misery? Why can’t I sleep on these long nights before I set out?

Oh, for some NyQuil.

  • Isn't oxycontin the new abuse of choice? Vicodin is so... 2000.

  • Mmmmm, vicodin.

  • worm

    Drugs are always the answer, says the American-trained MD. Speaking of which, anybody in Chicago who needs a prescription, you know which unethical physician to call. . .

  • Have a good time ... give B. some lovin' from me (and my NON-BITING dog).

  • crowdpleazr

    yes they are!

  • Drugs aren't the answer!

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