Things moved faster in Boston than they do in the real world. I arrived in the morning, having taken the red-eye from San Francisco. I dropped my bags at home and came into the office to start my first day at about 8 a.m. By 1 p.m., I’d had four versions of this conversation:

Them: Say, can you tackle this hour-long project?

Me: Sure. I’ll send it to you in an hour or so.

Them: Thanks!

(Twenty minutes later)

Them: Hey, Maggie.

Me: Hey.

Them: Have you finished up that project? Can you email me your results?

Me: Actually, it’s only been twenty minutes since you asked me. I’m still in the middle of it.

Them: Oh… Well send it when you’ve got it, I guess.

Me: (blink blink)

I’ve slept two of the last 48 hours. About an hour ago, I realized that I needed to start concentrating on breathing, because I seemed to be forgetting here and there. Also, I’ve had pizza three meals in a row.

Last night, I flew in on a red eye to Boston. I unpacked my ridiculously large bags, and headed over to the Democratic National Convention headquarters. I’ll be working here for the next month.