I’ve been barely drinking these past months, and I did not feel great this morning. But I was in a hotel with my best friends and giggling with them helped a lot. We met more friends for brunch, which also helped a lot and made my heart feel full. We spent a lovely 15 minutes with my mother-in-law before taking the train into the city to meet up with my family at the Met, although when we arrived we learned they don’t allow suitcases inside so my poor husband sat outside with our bags. I read From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankwieler on my flight over to prepare, and I was particularly excited to see the Met’s permanent collection, which I haven’t done since I was in … middle school? and particularly excited to see it with my nephew. But I forget that reality with a six year old is different than it is in my brain, and it was sort of nuts. Duh. But still fun. We went out to dinner and tried to walk a bit, but it was actually very cold and then we had to get to the airport. I have no idea how I made it back to LA, because I was so tired and so emotionally spent. But I somehow did and crawled into bed at 2am and I can’t believe I have to go to work tomorrow.