I flopped around all day, completely unable to find any motivation to do anything. I didn't finish party clean-up, I didn't work on code, I didn't even read. I kind of poked at IRC and stared at LJ and ... slugged.
I finally managed to get some motivation going to get dressed and go fetch dvorak at the airport. I was vaguely afraid I would be late, and so I perhaps had an exceptionally heavy foot along the way. But, luckily, the Porsche driver with the heavy foot was more interesting than I was to the cop.
I fetched dvorak with little incident (other than falling down walking up to baggage claim, I think I tripped on an air molecule). The 80-year-old man who helped haul me up off the ground had a Very Strong Grip. Yow. I managed to grab dvorak's bag before he actually got to baggage claim, thanks to the wonders of Dulles and the big Tonka Truck people mover thingies.
Then, home again, where I unwrapped the presents dvorak had toted home for me from his family. Amongst other cool things, dvorak's mom gave me a creme brulee kit. You do realize what this means, right? I HAVE A MINI BLOWTORCH! Bwahahaha.