After 40 hours, sleep-deprivation starts kicking in a bit. I feel hazy, temples dull and… purple? On the inside? Synæsthesia must be another side effect.

10 hours earlier, my mind is mush. I’m driving to the office, catching myself occasionally veering from my lane. Luckily the roads are clear. Have I really been up flying on a propellor plane just 2 hours ago? Did I act silly in front of the cameras for thousands of people to see? I can’t focus. I spend an hour at the office glaring blankly at things. My responses are slow. I am walking through cotton candy fog.

8 hours ago I manage to find parking at the client’s complex and stumble down the elevator to the classroom. 5 people have assembled already. 10 more to go. Someone’s giving some perliminary data to the assemblage. I glare blankly at my coffee. I get a thumbs up. I get up. I look up and shake up and wake up.

One hour ago I grab my coat and leave the classroom. 88 slides over 7 hours gives me an average of about 15 minutes per slide (counting coffee breaks and such). Not a bad ratio. I talk a lot. I talk and I walk, and as the evening wears off I talk more and walk more and joke more.

And they’re listening. They might not give a damn about the material, and some of them might as well have drifted in off the street, but they’re listening. 12 people left by then. Few enough to ask them questions, few enough to remember the answers. Remember who did what, who knows what. Throw them a bone. Refer to their earlier questions. Have some jokes for the guys at the back, but also a couple of tidbits for the bored ones in the corner. Break stride occasionally. Switch from abstract architecture to stepping through the code. Some get lost, some love it. They’ll accept it by now. 2 hours ago some switch flipped and I’m getting excited on the little rostrum.

By that point I’ve been awake for 38 hours, I’ve jumped off a plane with a fake parachute on my back and leaped out of a muddy getaway car, but I’m bouncing around totally juiced up on having 10 people sitting there and LISTENING to me. Some people like to teach, or instruct, or lecture, for the ability to shape and mold people’s minds in their likeness. Children are especially cherished for that, I would assume. Me? I like to lecture. I like the limelight, I like the attention. It’s a similar rush to running a good game, knowing you’ve got people hanging on your words. I assume it’s similar to having a floor full of spiked up party-goers waiting for the next track you spin down, like pulling off a guitar solo in front of a screaming horde. Not as big, probably. But the seed is there.

In 3 weeks I’ll be lecturing in front of 200-300 people. I can feel the adrenaline already.