Today was yet another crazy day - I was going to say that my brain finally reached its melting point, but it perhaps reached boiling point instead, since I felt like everything was turning to mist and disappearing into the ether. I woke up at six, after not enough sleep, and was out of my hotel and in the SF office by 7:30, where I managed to get some stuff done before starting meetings at nine. Most of my meetings were okay (although at some point my face was so annoyed-looking that someone laughed at me), and I had time for a quick lunch with Alice and Chris, so I guess it could be worse. I also had four iced coffees, which kept me awake but may have contributed to the feeling of disintegration...
...but I managed to leave around 2:30 to come to Santa Cruz with Grace. She met me at my office and we grabbed snacks before heading south, which was probably a critical mistake - by the time we actually got out of the garage, traffic was horrible, and it took like forty minutes just to get to the freeway. So, the drive to Santa Cruz took over two hours, and it's a good thing that I was the one driving (even though I felt like my brain was oozing out of my ears) since Grace doesn't know the east side of the city from the west side of the city (I shouldn't publicize that, but I want to remember it because she was shocked when we were suddenly in Daly City and I found that to be incredibly funny).
When we got here, I simply had to lie down for ten minutes because I couldn't function anymore, and that was just enough to revive me and get me out the door. We are here for a writing workshop with Elizabeth Gilbert and Cheryl Strayed, so we went to the center (which is gorgeous), checked in, had supper (mindfully, of course), and then listened to their evening talk. It was really good and really entertaining, especially since they're well-spoken and have a great connection, but it was a bit annoying (really annoying) that they made several derogatory comments about romance novels (which of course Grace and I angrily debriefed about later). Also, the crowd is exactly what you would expect - a lot of white women, 30-55, bougie enough to afford to spend several hundred dollars (on registration, not counting flights/hotel/food) listening to two other bougie white women talk about #livingyourbest life. But I'm probably going to get a book out of this experience, so no regrets.
But now I need to go to bed immediately - goodnight!
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