Ahhh..., the Glamorous Life Of Me.

More business travel impending. Am I going to sunny San Diego, you ask? Warm South Florida? Viva Las Vegas? No.

Branson, Missouri.

Kill. Me. Now.

Well...I can do a Familial Visit, just a quick overnight or two-day stay at the same time.

Also, New Orleans. I don't like New Orleans. I've been there twice and it smelled funny both times.

Also, all of that stuff about the great food is a lie. The last time I was there, I was there for a week and the only decent meal I got was at, of all places, a Benigan's. Actually, I was running a fever and had a savage sinus infection (that's the trip where my head exploded) and as near as I can recall, it's almost the only meal I had while I was down there.

I'm attempting to pawn New Orleans off on Sassy. I'm sure she'd love to visit there. Besides. She's young and strong. She can take it.

In other non-events, I've divided my desk in two. Metaphorically To my left are the papers, files, and notes about things that Must Be Done for the DarkGlass study. A project no one is paying attention to dies, and this one is going to die if I don't start feeding it the love.

To my right, debris associated with Hell's Own Software and that project. 102 clients and climbing, that's what I'm trying to organize for that one. I have it...not under control, but I have the screams down to a dull roar.

It does occur to me, not being as stupid as I look, that if I spent less time blogging during the day, I'd be able to manage both of these projects more easily.

Work ethic, where is thy sting?

Also? Men are weird. I'm riding up in the elevator with a guy just now and as the elevator reached my floor and I stepped forward to exit...out of the corner of my eye, I saw him grab his weenie through his pants. And I'm thinking, "What? Did it feel like it was going to fall off or something?

Once I posted (on a different blog) that a pet peeve of mine is sitting in traffic and seeing some guy ahead of me open his car door and spit on the pavement. Or walking down the sidewalk and having to sidestep the residue of some guy spitting on the sidewalk. And some guy posted this angry comment about "what do you expect us to do?" And I'm thinking...I expect you not to spit on the sidewalk. Is this a more complicated concept than I'm understanding or something?