A Blurry-eyed, Foggy-headed Itch Mite—That’s Me

10:39 AM Albany (NY) Airport

But my energy level is low. I’m more or less in “low-idle” mode right now. Typical for me after a speaking event. You give out a lot and then on the way home, you don’t have much left. Mike Bush drove us to the airport (about 85 miles) and regaled us with stories. He and Amy do a great job running the events at the Inn. I think I may have said a few sentences but not too many because it’s Monday morning and we’re on the way home. I don’t think he minded.

This is typical when you travel–at least it is for me. A few minutes ago I said to Marlene, you know what I am? “An itch mite,” she said, finishing my sentence, which would be an itch mite to me but not today. I told her (or maybe I didn’t–I can’t remember) that I’m a “living, breathing, blurry-eyed, foggy-headed itch mite.” I must have said that because I do remember she smiled and squeezed my hand. She’s a wonderful wife, and I’m a lucky man. See, I do know what I’m supposed to say even when I feel like an itch mite.