In at 5:45am. No sleep on the plane. Regional rail (free, for some reason) into the city (but we met a nice fellow on the tracks who told us (Sarah Wells, me) that we couldn’t use a credit card on the train and if we didn’t have enough cash he’d cover us—so nice—that’s why this is the city of brotherly love), donuts and coffee at Dunkin’ (made me feel like I was in Boston again), and then picked up by Heather. Breakfast at—now I’m forgetting the name of the place. Incredible. Open-faced biscuit sandwich with veggie sausage, two fried eggs, gravy, and latkes with pear sauce. Philly has always had a good track record for food, in my book, and so far it’s holding to that standard.

Then back to where Heather’s house-sitting—gorgeous old brownstone-type; residing in the house is a gigantic Newfoundland, the biggest I’ve ever seen, drooling all over me—the thing probably weighs 150 lbs.—so, a too-brief nap on a toddler’s bed (surprisingly comfortable) and then up for a free show and live taping, Chairlift at WXPN, meet ‘n’ greet afterward and I tell them “Robert Laux says hello, I’m a friend, we went to school together” and they’re not as enthusiastic as I’d hoped about our mutual acquaintance. Then a beer, then back, leftovers, feeling so drained. Later: Courtney and Bob. Tomorrow: Jill on a bus from NYC.

Tired with every fiber of my body. When will I sleep?