Here is the evidence of my crime. I confess. I didn't finish this bottle of wine. Now, in my defense, I didn't open it, but I still feel somehow responsible. Forgive me. It was a long day.
My whirlwind trip to NYC created much carnage, but I hope this is the last of it. I landed at JFK at 11:30pm and departed the next day at 7:30pm (after an hour and a half delay). My highlights were...oh, none. I saw my hotel room (with a view of the Empire State Building--yawn), parts of TriBeCa as I walked 15 minutes to a meeting the next morning, another nice hotel cafe and meeting room, and an office. The day was capped off with a 1 1/2 hour drive back to JFK in the pouring rain, a mildly awful meal at someplace misnamed the Soho Bistro (it had aspects of neither of these two descriptors), and then another hour and a half delay on the tarmac.
In all, I was on a plane for 12 hours, slept for about 3 of the 7 hours I spent in my hotel, and worked for another 7 hours, with an extra 2.5 hours of taxi time added on for good measure.
Your honor, I plead temporary insanity. I won't let it happen again.