I won’t lie: this was not an easy day. My feet were killing me when I still had about five hours to go, and that was probably the easiest thing to deal with.

But I wrote it down, which actually was the easiest thing I did because there were so few opportunities to actually eat anything. I’m at a conference where the food is put out at rigid intervals and if you miss it, you miss it, and if you don’t miss it you have to eat standing up at your booth.

So there wasn’t much to write down, even when I count the excellent Indiana Amber I consumed during the last meeting, which I did (count, that is). They should serve beer at all our meetings. Everything’s more fun with a beer.

And there is something about conferences and an inexplicable reluctance to provide coffee throughout the day. What is up with that?

What the heck is she doing now?

© E. Stocking Evans 2016