Tucked away in a remote corner of Europe, in an austere but comfortable hotel room. Knitting.
Conference is going well. Paper went well. I actually got questions and discussion, which doesn't usually seem to happen for me; people even came up to me afterwards with further questions and comments. But the mark of true success? When a fancy person had a question, and I answered it, but sensed that he wasn't convinced--so, at the coffee hour, I went up to him (a first for me--success 1) and started talking. I think he's still not convinced, but I am perfectly fine with that (confidence, of a sort--success 2), and we had a perfectly lovely conversation about this and that (comfortable collegiality with a person who just might intimidate me--success 3). I'm pleased.
And tired. I've convinced myself that I'm not jetlagged, but that's probably false. Off I go to bed.