I mentally checked out of

I mentally checked out of Los Angeles sometime on Friday night. It’s one of the few times I’ve ever been truly ready to go home before it was actually time to go.

My flight home was uneventful and I walked out of the airport (and into the nasty humidity) right on time. My ride, of course, was late, so I sat on the pylon for a while, sweating and contemplating the meteorlogical differences between Houston and LA while playing sudoku on my cell phone. And so it goes.

I didn’t want to come to work today. I didn’t want to get out of bed. Ever.

P.S. My dad called me to see if I was ok. This is not a sad blog entry! It was supposed to be contemplative. Contemplative!