Well, it’s over.  "Hell Week" is that week, or more, built around the SCIP conference where I feel like I disappear into an abyss.  Days begin at 6 a.m. and usually last well into the night.  Sunshine is an abstraction except on the rare occassion that I get out to grab a sandwich.  This year’s conference was at the Marriott Marquis in New York (Times Square), surrounded by Broadway theaters and my only experiences outside the hotel were a couple of quick trips to delis or restaurants.  One of the shows I’d really liked to have seen was Spamalot and the theater was literally less than a block away, but there was no way.  Ah well, maybe next time.

For the record, everyone on the SCIP staff is in the same boat and some of them have it harder than me.  They all do a great job dealing with the stress, probably much better than me, but speaking for myself I can tell you that I’ve rarely been as tired as when we finish these conferences.  It amazes me that they weather it and I literally get email from them the day after the conference as if it’s just another day in the office. 

The conference went really well and I’m glad that it was a success, but honestly I’m relieved that it’s over and I’m home.  I was originally supposed to take a 9:30 p.m. flight out of LaGuardia on Thursday, but I got lucky and got a seat on standby on the 3:30 flight.  That meant I was able to get to my youngest’s baseball game in the fourth inning, just in time to see him pitch for the first time ever.  That helped me get over my fatigue. Well, that and the hugs and kisses I got from Celeste and the other two kids when I got to the field.

The last couple of days have largely been spent hanging out with the family, recharging the batteries and hoping to God I never have to be gone for 9 straight days again.  I know other people do it all the time, but I’m just not built for it.

Home sweet home.