Well, where do you think Her Highness stays when the Plaza is being renovated?

At any rate, that’s where I’m staying: at an Embassy Suites, that assault upon the senses. Three days breathing hotel air exclusively. It’s the kickoff to three straight weeks of travel: five destinations, six presentations. Or maybe there are seven? I’ll worry about that when I get to week 3.

That’s three straight weeks where any minor mistake — forgetting a pair of shoes, a file, a cable, or a detail — could be the butterfly’s wing that utlimately results in a tornado in my head.

When I got to Logan, for example, the garage was under construction, severely limiting the number of parking spaces available. Because I was struggling to finish up the adoption paperwork before I left, I had arrived at the airport less than an hour before my flight. If I would have had to trek out to the economy lot, I would surely have missed my flight, then missed my meeting, then I would have had to meet with people after their late meeting, then I would have had to stay up all night revising my presentation based on their notes, etc. etc. Luckily the airport was offering a new valet service, so I was able to abandon my car, give the keys to some guy, and after going down to the third floor, across to the other side of the garage, then up to the fourth floor and over to the terminal, make my flight. It was delayed, but that’s another story.

Husband: I’ve never heard of a valet service at Logan before. You just gave your keys to some guy?

Me: Sure!

Husband: Was there a sign that said Valet, or something?

Me: No, it was just in the middle of the garage.

Husband: Did he have a uniform or anything?

Me: Uh…he gave me a receipt!

Well, I’ll worry about that on Friday. Because, even if he is a thief, I have the receipt!