5:30 a.m. Someone's knocking, knocking in my dreams. I turn over to shut out the noise, and then . . . snap awake. It's the airport shuttle driver, muttering angrily under his breath as I stumble to the door wrapped in my sheet. Thank goodness I finished packing last night. I pull on my jeans and t-shirt, grab my bag, and stumble to the van barefoot, sneakers in hand, hair uncombed. The other passengers glare at me for making them wait. We pull away. The journey to Seattle and Gnomedex begins.