Back to ol' Boston by way of the 12:30 AM Peter Pan after ditching the Fung Wah for hanging out at P.N.'s birthday party.

Bus sleep is not the same thing as real sleep.

If I believed in a deity I would ask him/her/it that I never wind up as any of the people I met shambling, burbling, screeching, muttering to themselves or sleeping in chairs on the way back from South Station at 4:45. In case anyone is wondering, though the T stop opens at 5:00 AM, the first train does not, in fact, come at that time. Now I must somehow consume enough coffee to some how get through a day of work. More detailed report of the day and a half NYC extravaganza later when I am capable of thinking/speaking in complete sentences again.