I just got back last night from a week back east — Easter visits, wedding planning and working from other people’s couches. It’s draining. I miss the cats, the gardening I need to do, the fish I should be catching. I’m eating crap processed food in airports; I’m also hyper sensitive to it because I just finished Michael Pollan’s In Defense of Food . And I’m missing fishing, hiking, working out. Not that this week wasn’t important — we got lots of stuff done. But I’m just weary of it. I’m headed out again on Monday night for a conference in Vegas. I’ll be down there with some buddies for a few days, covering really important news for my company — exciting stories and free beer! And then KP and I are headed to Death Valley for the rest of the week (if you get a free flight, might as well make the most of it). And if it stopped there, I’d be ok. But it won’t. I’m flying every other week from here till the wedding in August.
It seems a little hypocritical to spend a lot of breath preaching against the dangers of global warming when I’m spewing carbon at 30,000 feet every week. I’d guess about 3/4 of it is spent traveling to conferences where I’m learning or speaking about energy efficiency — and bringing that back to readers is pretty good on balance — maybe even breaking even. But I’m sick of it.