I drove my car to an airport hotel, parked it and caught a few hours sleep, then boarded one of the first flights out the next morning, bound for the Southwest. Six days later, I reversed the trip with a pile of pages in my computer. I went there to see what there was to say, and I found that there's a lot.

I drove my car back from the airport, parked it in my garage and caught a few hours of sleep, then got up and finished the laundry and repacked my suitcase and drove eleven hours into the Northeast to see my friend and attend a conference. It turns out that I'm only half-attending the conference, skipping a range of formally organized things in order to attend to my own informally organized requirements, which include booking more travel. I tell myself that next year, I'll do better.

I turn out to need so much more quiet than even I knew.