Got up at 7:00 yesterday morning to find something seriously wrong with my left foot, as in "That lump that turned up a couple of months ago isn't just another lipoma, it's cancerous and it has been eating your foot and now it won't bear your weight and they will probably have to amputate the damned thing." Got packed and out of the house by 9:00 anyway; I could have a fit of hypochondria when I got home. Needed to bring along a cane, though.
Drove to Minneapolis, managed to experience the full glory of afternoon rush hour, found and checked into a hotel, and managed to be only fifteen minutes late meeting Copper Rose at Borders. The window was "6:30 to 7:00", and I was there at 6:45, though limping heavily and seriously road worn. Talked until 8:30, then moved to the Crimson Crustacean and talked and ate until 10:30, then came back to the hotel and shelled out $10.60 for the privilege of checking my mail and the journals. Joy. Crashed at midnight, with the help of the usual 2000mg of OTC pain killers for the foot.
Morning update: Eight hours of rest has done wonders for the foot; odds are it was a minor injury I don't remember getting. Not quite healed, though, so we shall see what the day brings. Now to shower and load the car, and off to Lake Superior...