Eastbound and the bodyclock.
Ugg.
I feel the time difference on the east coast. I had to be up at 6 and my body is not happy about the 5 aye emm adventure. The trip got off on the wrong foot yesterday when thunderstorms over the southeastern US ground stopped outbound flights that were headed east. After an hour and a half on the ramp and taxiways of IAH, we finally headed skyward with 33 planes in line behind us for their turn. The line of aircraft on the taxiway awaiting clearance onto the active was almost the length of the runway. I sat with a young lady and her adorable, happy baby refusing to sleep the entire trip. I became a jungle gym. Dulles is a pain in the ass per usual. The land shark people movers still crack me up. The hotel room is quite nice… comfy. Barry and I walked to a nearby pub last night for microbrew and (eventually) comped shots from the locals. The success of this morning’s meetings will be determined by how much coffee I can get in my belly between now and round one. I slept quite well tucked in the high thread count taco in my icy cold, pitch black cave. I’m off for the shuttle. Ciao.
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