I spent a little time in the gift shop and spent a little money on a pink stuffed toy for Beth. On my way back up to my room I was asked if I was here to get away from the storms. I had no idea what the woman was talking about, and without speaking a single word communicated this most effectively. In answer to my unvoiced question, this interloper in my period of self-pity advised me that a lot of people were staying in the hotel to get away from Hurricane Dennis.

Sounds like there are worse things in the world than not having anything intelligent to say in a meeting. My apologies if reading about this has been one more of those things.

Before you think me silly for posting all of this, consider that you’ve just done the same thing as a really expensive therapist, for free. Ah, how does that shoe feel?

Well no, not really. I like my computer too much.

Still in Jax. It’s getting late. I’ve spent half a day working – or so I’d like to think. Half a day driving, one eighth asking questions and three answering, if that constitutes a day’s work. Now it’s night and the sky is intermittently dark. Now thunder drowns the small sound of the movie playing on my computer. Now I’m looking out that window, the one you’re not here to see. Now the lightning stops and I can see myself in that window. Now instead of looking out I’m looking in. Now I am on the fourteenth floor, a place for people who know what they’re doing.

So what about that job, the one that I do well enough? It did lead to a trip like this, so someone must think so. But after a day where I had little to say, what, should it be any different now?