I had an engagement the other day. And evening thing. Manhattan. Trained in from Deep River for the overnight. Jet lagged from twelve days on the big island bookended by the travel. Got home at 10AM on Thursday. The next day it was Amtrak to NYC for the thing. Some things roll with ease. A few but not many are chores. Chores regardless of the stress. The obligations. There are moments in time when the flow is blocked. And when I do the thing it’s forced. Because I have to do it. The other day it was a chore. Cannot explain. But I was anxious. Under my own microscope. Fearing that each encounter would end awkwardly. That all of it. From the 7PM launch. Would be a tar and feathers ordeal for my confidence. For whatever little self-esteem was available. It was like somebody’s first date. Not mine. But somebody’s. And when the lights flickered. And when I found the stones to say thank you and farewell, the skies opened. I walked nine blocks to the fashionista hotel. The door opened for me by a staff member whose job it is to open the door. I went to the bar. And asked for the tallest pour of IPA on draught. And ordered a large plate of Brussel sprouts. It was the latest dinner hour for me since Clinton was the HMFIC.