Yeah, I know there’s a blog out there with that name (or something like it), but I don’t give a rat’s ass. I’m appropriating it for the title of this post, mainly because that’s where I am as I write this.
Flight got in late - O’Hare, surprise! - but I was able to enjoy a late dinner with Jimmy P., our resident Sales Guy. Jambalaya, loaded up with plenty of Tabasco to give it that extra kick, washed down with lashings of Warsteiner and Himbeergeist. Ya gotta watch out for that Himbeergeist...raspberry firewater, served icy, syrupy cold. Yowzah.
And then a half hour soak in Jimmy’s hot tub, with the full moon above, fifteen degrees air temp, but who cared?
Now back in the hotel, running through my e-mails and posting this. I oughta be in bed...
The noteworthy part of the trip, though, was that when I showed up at the airport gate in Atlanta, who should be standing there but Dan P., my cousin Stephanie’s happy spouse! After the obligatory double take, I went over to say hello. It’s been four years since I last saw Dan, and we had a good time catching each other up on family stuff. Family reunions are difficult and all too rare, with everyone scattered to the four winds - Stef and Dan in Naperville, Illinois and us in Atlanta - so this was a special treat.
Thank Gawd I don’t pick my nose in public. You never know who you might run into, out of the blue.
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