I called Laurel earlier to see if there was anything going on at the Jupiter this evening, but they're having a St. Patrick's day dance tomorrow, so there's nothing going on tonight. Instead, we arranged to meet for lunch at Bennigans, and decide then what to do with the rest of the day.

As things worked out, I probably wouldn't have been able to do anything this evening. One of the problems with working with a West Coast customer is that they keep later hours than us. Right at five o'clock, Dale called with a problem the customer had found in an afternoon meeting. (Who has meetings on Friday afternoon anyway?) So we were handling that until six-thirty our time, and then in a conference call with the customer until seven-thirty our time, five-thirty theirs. So by the time I got home, I was really wiped out, and fell asleep.

Brian woke me coming to bed at midnight, having been playing computer games all evening, and by the time he was asleep, I was wide awake, so I'm actually writing this in the wee hours of Saturday morning.


I know, I know... I haven't written. And it doesn't get better, because I'm begging off writing for longer.

Problem is, something happened. And though I have notes and I've tried to do the entry justice, it's going to take a while to finish.

Fact is, I've spent the time since the events I'm trying to document trying to convince myself that I shouldn't put it online. Or perhaps that I should, I'm not entirely sure.

And now I'm going back out of town, and I doubt that I'll have the chance to get the entry finished until next week.

Saturday, 17th March, 2001. St. Patrick's day.

To follow.