[NYC voice] WASTED! [/NYC voice]

1.30 am

My car to take me to the airport arrives in 3 1/2 hours.

POX!

I had my first inkling that things weren't going to be easy when I couldn't finish in time tonight at work. Calling home so I could stay another 30 min, I found Chris was in tears.

Dashed home. Attempted rather feebly to comfort wife. Cooked dinner. Greeted newly returned son.

Ben popped out to see some friends (they needed hugs from him, apparently) and we engaged each other's attention in a way that helps most males sleep after. Note this bit.

Dashed back to work. Sorted laptop. Collected papers to read in preparation for meeting. Picked up data. Packed box. Wrote a couple of orders. Dashed home again.

Toward the end I could feel things becoming increasingly imprecise. Most of this week has felt like it was wasted. There's been a cold going round that takes the edge off people, and with Ben in hospital, my edge has been truly off. Today, when the rubber hit the road and I HAD to get stuff done God was gracious enough to give me a sharp brain.

It's like I rode through the eye of a storm, with calmness around and thoughts flowing reasonably clearly.

Tonight the fug was returning, but the brain would not stop sizzling from the days business.

Got home, packed the case with the stuff Chris had so kindly ironed. Went donstairs, ironed a pair of jeans to wear while travelling, dashed around and got all hot before climbing into bed. Had our last (by now, too warm) cuddle and then completely failed to sleep.

My head was too full, overflowing with thoughts, awash with streams of words, imaginings and intentions running through it. Must find that hat. EZ81 or 5Y3 rectifier. Add an extra line to that organisation chart. Should I go to guitar centre or Rockin' Robins? Will Mervyns have any good trousers. What will Gopal want to know. 170pF or 180pF. Is the Rayburn OK - I'm sure it sounded 'wrong' when it fired just now. Wish I could blog my *thoughts* without typing.

My head felt swollen, face tender. No position was comfy.

At 1.15, with 3 hours left before the alarm, I got up.

So here I am. There was nothing I fancied on the spirits to help me sleep (that Hungarian Apricot brandy will make me feel hung over) so I'm sipping a beer, typing twaddle.

In 24 hours it will be 7.55pm (local) and I'll be at someone's party, attempting to make conversation without saying anything too stupid or too rude, and trying not to fall over. Maybe I'll sleep on the plane?

Hope you all slept well. This took me 40 minutes to type.