ArmadilloCon was fun as usual. There was the crossbow (small, red, throws goldfish crackers a nice distance--also throws M&Ms but you don't want to use those in a room with a carpet in case someone steps on the ammo before you can retrieve it.) There was the guy in the Clemson T-shirt who told me a few things about Clemson that might get the crowd on my side, maybe. There were friends. There were fellow writers (many of whom are friends.) There was crawfish etouffee at Papadoux (or however you spell it--I am TIRED) that I coudln't finish. I slept instead of eating supper between yesterday's afternoon panel and the 9 pm one I had to moderate. The ConDFW party (small but select, and the mini-bow was a real hit--though I fear my eternal attempt to prove that I am sweet, gentle, and completely harmless may have been damaged by the crossbow...)
Then I came home and had to do the laundry, hang it out, and start thinking what to stuff in the suitcase for tomorrow's trip. Grump. Hate, hate, hate, back-to-backs without even 24 hours between, but there was no alternative.