My vacation officially begins Friday, but I'm already gone. I'm not thinking about that contract I ought to be drafting, or any of a number of trials that I ought to be preparing for. Nope. I'm thinking about laying in the sun by the pool on the roof of the Plaza Hotel sipping martinis brought to me by bikini-clad bimbos with fake boobs. The sweat is stinging my eyes. Vision getting blurry . . .