Made it to part of 3LF. Made it home. Felt well enough to be playing (except for coughing into the bass recorder) but only marginal for driving. Was annoyed that the grocery store convenient to my route with the BIG SIGN that says "Open 24 hours" (except Sunday) was closed. Wasn't sure why the security guard who told me they were closed seemed surprised that I was surprised. After all, there's that big ol' sign up there saying they're open, and people inside.
Something I forgot to mention in my entry about the trip home from Pennsic: After driving a large, overloaded truck, not driving anything for two weeks, then driving an even bigger truck (still overloaded), getting into my own car felt interesting. It felt nimble, powerful. It felt like it was a living thing. A living thing that wanted to dance. But I didn't dance with it, I just drove it home. I was too tired to do stupid stuff and think I'd get away with it. Still, it was a cool feeling even if I didn't give in to it. (Perhaps even more so for not actually testing it -- if 'twas an illusion, I left the illusion intact and let my imagination flesh it out.)