I'm back. Flew out of San Diego at 6:20 yesterday morning, got home the middle of the afternoon, and managed to stay awake until right around sundown. Slept a couple of hours on the couch after putting Georgia to bed, shifted to the bedroom when Allison called from work to say she wouldn't be home until late (she got home at 3:00 AM, for the record), and slept straight through until Georgia woke me at 7 o'clock this morning. I put that at about eleven hours sleep. Another few days of that and I might just be back on my feet.

My brain feels pureed, my voice is raspy and hoarse from too many cigarettes, and my feet are still kidding me. I think I had a good time, but it'll probably take a couple of days to piece together my fragmented memories of the week to know for sure. If nothing else, I got to spend time with a lot of friends, and met some great new folks.

Now I've got a few thousand entries on my bloglines feeds to read through. Why can't the internet just take a break for a few days while I'm away? Is that so much to ask?