In Which I Am Too Hard-Working For My Own Good

I have a conference this summer, down in Orlando, at a brand-new Hilton resort. I went to the same conference last year, in a different city, and noted that it had very short exhibit hours. (Long-time readers will remember my occasional laments that my conventions now tend to mean selling books to accountants from 7-7 in a convention center, and may infer that this was a joyful discovery.)

Very short. As in three discrete sessions, of only two to three hours each, over two days.

Long-time readers may also remember that I'm in the habit of taking the family on vacation in Orlando, and may additionally infer that I enjoy certain themed attractions in that vicinity.

Additionally, this conference is taking place beginning the day after my birthday, a time when most people are not looking to increase their workload.

And last, this conference is at the beginning of a three-conference string on two coasts that will keep me away from home for close to two weeks. (The second of those two conferences is particularly busy and complicated, with morning start times usually before 7 AM.)

So one might reasonably expect that I'd be looking to take it easy at this particular event, to keep up my strength for the long slog ahead.

Instead, I've just worked out an agreement in principle to do a lot of marketing-swap with the organization in question and run the official bookstore of the event, which will see me vastly increase the booth hours and thereby make myself vastly busier both before and during this conference. Once again, I'm too energetic for my own good. I hate it when that happens.