I just got home, and yet I have to pack tomorrow to leave again. Montreal's forecast is for highs in the forties with some snow showers. Here we have highs in the sixties and seventies with brilliant sunshine.
The three days between arriving and leaving again are filled with laundry, work, and trying to cram in as much quality time with the kids as possible. Cady Gray and I crafted and cooked together this afternoon. Now I'm watching Archer play Mario Super Sluggers. As soon as I'm done with my evening workout, I'll be writing about So You Think You Can Dance for two hours. Make lunches, sleep, wake up, go to running club with Archer, go to work, come home and do it all again -- but for the last time this week.
The trip coming up will have a completely different feeling than the one I just completed. In Washington I was part of a large contingent, constantly with my colleagues. I'll be traveling to Montreal alone, spending the first day and a half locked in a room with my fellow directors, but then left mostly to my own devices. There's much work to be done, both at the conference and to keep up with things at home. But my time will mostly be my own. So if I come home behind, unfulfilled, dissatisfied, I'll have no one to blame but myself.