The home run....

...to continue with the baseball metaphor, turned out more like a soft bunt, rolling along while the players stand around watching to see if it crosses the foul line. I might have made it to first base. Or I might have to go back to the plate with another strike on the count.

Right before I was set to leave, two things happened. The first was a call from my lunch host, moving it to a place 75 miles away, right in the hottest part of the area. Then, the car I'm driving developed an electronic fault so bizarre it defies description. I had no idea whether it would even make 150 miles without doing something dumb and terminal....

Traffic was the worst I've seen in years, worthy of a separate rant I may get into later. At one point, my average speed was roughly 4.5 miles per hour. On the freeway. No accident; just too damn many people. It was hot, and the air was foul.

The meeting was intense. Promises were made; we'll see if they are delivered. Or even can be; there is a situation developing, having nothing to do with me, that may change everything at the company. Very possibly for the worse. If that doesn't happen, things may work out.

I can't repeat the conversation. I don't remember all of it. I was straining to measure my words, forcing myself to be rational and professional. Fortunately, I think I got my points across. At least this is one guy I can be absolutely candid with.

Then I came home, through traffic almost as bad, returned the car, which gave no further trouble; I'm not sure what's wrong, but I believe it to be haunted.

I'm roughly where I was 24 hours ago, though with some promises to be delivered at a later date, if I can believe in them. The only difference between 5:09 yesterday and 5:09 today is I went through one hell of a lot of stress to get here.

I'm proud of myself, though. I didn't throw up until I got back home.