In which our hero leaves his home, and travels around the globe to a place called Denver, where he finds a new bed to sleep in.
Conferences are almost always fun, but I wasn't enjoying myself flying to Denver. I didn't feel all that well and I was tired. Fatigued, actually. I had been busy, busy in the weeks before, and getting the PhD work done can be pretty intense too. I didn't really look forward to a week of action packed intellectual stimuli during the day, and heavy drinking at night. But going wasn't a matter of choice anymore. Commitments had been made, money had been paid, and, as my mother usually says, "It probably won't be all that bad once you get there".I had to fly to Minneapolis first, and I knew that I had to wait there for four hours before I could fly to Denver. Not something to improve the already dark mood I was in. The headache I got during the first flight aggravated things even more. Happy happy, joy joy. Fortunately an airport contains many people to be watched.
During the flight to Denver I slept. Tired, tired. Really tired, I guess, as sleeping in anything moving isn't something I do easily. Usually I stay awake no matter what.
At Denver I had a blind date waiting: we intended to share a cab together. We had only had scarce e-mail contact before I left that morning, so I wasn't fully confident things would work out. The meeting place I had mentioned is located in a secluded part of the main lobby, so that made meeting each other easier. In fact, she was the only other person there. Wonderful how Internet can connect people.
Meeting somebody new is usually enjoyable, and Birgitte certainly was no exception. My tiredness temporarily suppressed we had a pleasant cab-ride to downtown Denver, chatting about this and that. But in the back of my mind a clock kept telling me that it really was 07:00 am, and was I out of my mind to keep staying up?
The brand-new Coors Field heralded our arrival at down-town Denver, with the Comfort Inn just some blocks away. Checking in was done in a matter of minutes. Suspicion started to arise: normally this would be a hassle. What was wrong? But I was really to tired to think about it. I could only think of going to the room, take a shower, and hug a pillow on a nice and comfy bed. Still, a nagging feeling persisted.
Aaah. The shower washed away some of the weariness, but it couldn't just make up for eight hours of lost sleep. Just as I was about to get some sleep my roommates came back from a night on the town. Party! Well, we didn't, really. But there was lots to talk about. It was well after 8:00 am before I got some sleep. (Midnight local time, that is).