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March 10, 2003
On a flight to St. Louis, and for the first time, not eager for it. Work, not pleasure. One of those mind numbing work jaunts, put together at the last minute. It's a pleasant day for it all the same. Cold but pleasant. Cynthia called while I was in the terminal and sang her "Airplane Song." Cheered me a bit, made me miss her at the same time.

At least I'll have home cooking. Staying at home instead of a hotel. It'll be good to see John again. Junior says he's drunk with power. The old management/hourly schism still persists.