Let’s not talk about the fact that zero of my “work pants” (which are trotted out only for client meetings, approximately two times a year, and not since May) actually fit, and that out of desperation I was forced to wear a bright red wool skirt that looks ready to wrap a Christmas tree in.
Let’s not talk about having to interface (to borrow the language of idiots) with winter, which is what they were serving up in the land of presidents.
Or the fact that Eugene Levy was nowhere to be seen.
Let’s be thankful that everything went right, from flights that were early to flights that actually took off from O’Hare on time IN THE RAIN and landed without incident to the fact that I remembered to take toll money and didn’t get lost on freeways that I remember by sight if not by name.
That I had two steak tacos with two old friends, and a lot of coffee, and a productive (dare I say hopeful) meeting.
Let’s leave it at that.