Saturday: Wake up early and go to the games. Order kilt for husband. Get sunburn in spite of sunblock. Weather is hot a muggy, making falling asleep in a tiny (compared to our king) double bed difficult. Still no period. Huh.
Sunday: Drive back to Boston, avoiding any contact with I95, which involves weird detour through the Bronx. Move key items from small bag to suitcase. Fly to DC. Taxi stand betrayal occurs. Finally harrock and I arrive at hotel, sometime after 11. Still no period. Weird.
Monday: Awaken at 5am due to menstral cramps. Curse the gods for trying so hard to get your hopes up and then adding injury to insult. Doze until 7, then head to Opnetwork. Finally aquire painkillers after lunch.
Tuesday: Awaken at 5:51 to the sound of a circular saw or something. Ponder the fact that the JW Marriott is not as good as I remember it. Later discussion reveals that harrock was also awakened at that hour, in spite of the fact that his room was at the other end of the hall, and that upon calling the front desk to complain he received a less than satisfactory reply.
Wednesday: Start irony pills
Thursday: Awaken at 6:50 to the sound of hammering. Lovely.
Friday: Get up early to avoid what checkout betrayal can be avoided. Go to final session. Go to Spy Museum. Fly home finally.