Kind of well. My stomach is not pleased with the amount of food I placed into it this evening. It was a bit more than it’s been used to lately. But it was a business dinner - the restaurant had a three-course prix fixe thing going on… what’s a girl to do?

My workday was exceptionally long-feeling and, frankly, a bit overwhelming. Not to the point of tears or anything, but I haven’t multi-tasked like that or accomplished so much in so little time (or started so much in so little time) in a few months. And it’s not like I’ve been sitting at my desk twiddling my thumbs over the last few months either. Therefore, a business dinner with a small group of people I enjoy was just what the doctor ordered.

We went to Tabla. Mmmm, tasty.

First off, signature cocktail: the Tablatini. Imagine if you will: Skyy Citrus with Lemongrass-Infused Fresh Pineapple Juice. Served in a martini glass with a shoot of lemongrass resting atop it, piercing a wedge of pineapple. Points for presentation and many more points for taste.

I started off with the braised duck samosa, served over a salad of shaved fennel, orange & pea tendrils. That was mighty tasty. Since my colleagues had all decided upon fish for their main courses by this point, we ordered a bottle of white wine - Vouvray, Prince Poniatowsky, “Clos Baudoin” 1989. I had a glass before I started my main course just to get a taste - a mite sweet, but very good. And I’m not usually a fan of white wine.

I moved onto chili rubbed hanger steak & braised short ribs of beef with purple Adirondack potatoes and baby spinach. This was some red meat heaven. Prepared medium rare (my preferred level of done-ness) so it looked lovely on my plate as well - red and purple and brown and green… rich jewel tones, really. Aesthetically quite pleasing.

In between courses, we discussed our ethical issues (or lack thereof) with eating things like foie gras and veal, and how our connection with cats and dogs is the only thing that saves them from being food-stuff, talked about playing the ukulele and ukulele festivals, documentaries and the Anglican church, then drifted into talking about work, then forked off to talk about Facebook and Twitter first in a work capacity and then in a personal… and it was soon time for dessert.

When the dessert menu arrived, there was really only one thing I could pick - not because there weren’t other delicious options, but because I am obsessed. With crème brûlèe. If it’s on a menu, I am ordering it. Period, end of story. A lot of that has to do with Amelie - but not all of it. I’m not that easily influenced and shallow. There is something romantic (in a poetic old-timey way, not a bouquet of roses way) about the cracking of the caramelized sugar. Mmmmm. But there it was: coconut crème brûlèe with carrot cake, tamarind sauce, coconut ice cream and carrot sorbet.

And I am so full now, and so tired, and still have a bit of work to do from home. But it’s well worth it after this tastiness.

That sums it up. It’s what I’m doing. Trying to fit a tent, sleeping bag, climbing gear, sneakers, blow dryer, toiletries, hat, camera, umbrella, books, and clothes for 10 days of wildly varying weather — all into a suitcase and a carry-on. I am allowed 2 suitcases, but that just seems excessive for a 10 day trip.

Rather than being up until 3 in the morning and waking up at 6:30 (that was last night) when it’s my ninth straight day of work (that was today), I’m going to try my hand at going to bed now and getting up a little bit earlier tomorrow to review what I’ve packed with a clear mind before I have ten days of NOT work.

Thankfully, I’m good at spacial orientation (and Tetris) so packing is something I sort of enjoy. But I’ll enjoy it more when I don’t have a headache or brief spells of vertigo because I just really really need to sleep.

I don’t know how much I’ll be writing. Maybe a bit, maybe nothing. Maybe it will be all about Twitter.

For now, let’s just confirm that starting Wednesday, April 23, this chick is on vacation.

On the brief walk from my office to the train station, I had a few moments of crazy sensory awareness. Or was this the closest I’ll come to a moment of Awareness? It was mostly auditory and visual. Eh, I don’t know. Anyway, I was aware - all at once - of:

Sound: helicopters overhead, the puffity-sucking sound of an old man smoking his pipe alongside me, the jangling of metal dog tags on a pair of dogs getting walked, seagulls crying, the rhythmic splashing of water against the dock, the soft sounds of my ballet-flat-clad footsteps compared to the clomping of the business men walking ahead of me, the old man speaking in Italian on his cell phone and repeating “ciao” over and over trying to get someone off the phone, the possibly-homeless man repeating, “Good evening, spare some change?” to every passerby, the wind whistling and rushing by my ears when it kicked up, rush-hour horn-honking a few blocks off…

Sights: the Hudson River catching the light of the late afternoon sun and splaying it along the train station and wood of the dock, long strips of sunlight cast onto the walkway from between the buildings to the west of the river, the tendrils of smoke from the old man’s pipe moving very slowly and thickly despite the windy day, the tessellations formed by the hexagonal stones of the walkway, the tips of my striped shoes appearing and disappearing rhythmically from under the hem of my skirt…

…reminding me of something Stephen Pinker wrote - that one of the most amazing things we do as true bipeds is walk upright. With every single step, we’re defying gravity and saving ourselves from falling by just a fraction of a second. A toddler learning to walk really is a big deal in those terms.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have much in the olfactory sense group since I didn’t take my allergy medicine and am a congested girl.

In other news, I will be Twittering a bit (again, after my aborted efforts last year because it bored the crap out of me) every now and again. It will be an easy way to post quick stuff when I’m on vacation–or when I’m just really busy this week.

I feel compelled to do some Pilates and go running since my rock-climbing plans for tonight didn’t pan out. I happen to have gotten all addicted to a sport that requires a partner; this is highly uncharacteristic of me, but it happened. Tough. The friend with whom I climb regularly and have climbed regularly since September (”my climbing buddy”) is on the West coast at the moment and, thus, not able to belay for me. My efforts to arrange otherwise didn’t pan out for tonight, but I’m making an effort to arrange something for tomorrow night. If not, I will be doing a LOT of running. It’s just not as fun or rewarding or challenging. Boo-hiss.

I can’t believe it’s 9:00 already. I guess that’s what happens when you get home from work after 7, though. The hours run away like horses over the hill… to adapt and paraphrase a phrase. But something that will feel wonderful will be collapsing into my bed tonight and maybe getting rid of this headache. Ah, bed. Ah, slumber. You elusive temptresses.