Cotton Head

My brain is blank this morning, a little hungover maybe. It feels like it is stuffed with cotton sometime during the night. Waking is hard work today.

Most of all, I am way off my routine, off my rhythm, after this crazy week of travel. I started in Oregon a week ago Friday, flew through Chicago on my way to Philadelphia. Spent a day in Phillie site-seeing before heading to southern New Jersey — Cherry Hill — for a wedding. On Monday I hopped a plain for Ohio — through Atlanta — and spent a couple of days with my dad, stepmom and Grandmother (she turned 94 last Tuesday).

On Wednesday it was back to Philadelphia where I spent Thursday at the National Council of Teachers of Mathematics conference, checking out the show floor, listening in on a few sessions and getting a sense for the state of technology in math education after many years away.

On Friday I jumped on an Amtrak train to New York City. I had some very fruitful meetings and walked 6.5 miles around Manhattan. Saturday I flew home. I’d say I covered close to 10,000 miles this week. Glad I don’t do it often.

Yesterday my brain was stuffed up, too. I took a little nap mid-morning and then cleared things up with a 20 mile bike ride and a beautiful evening on the Columbia River with my wife and kids. I thought maybe I’d be ready to go today but here I sit with my brain still stuffed to the rafters, trying to get my rhythm back. One foot in front of the other, that is all I can do for now.