Balmer, hon.

So, at the moment, it's 2:45 AM and I'm in an airport, in Baltimore..  Why?  Well, they cancelled my flight to Nashville and rebooked  me at  6AM.  So, I didn't have much time for a room, and there wasn't one available anyway.

And I'm eating Twizzlers.  I'm also listening to a recorded Town Hall meeting where the president of my company appears to be spewing buzzwords.

Apparently, we have Synergies with the LPGA... who knew that lady golfers were in our wheelhouse?

Because if you're killing time in an airport with nothing open for another hour or so, and you can't sleep because there's a whole slew of loud assholes partying in a bar that's closed about four gates down, why not just kick it with your laptop and earbuds?

I cannot wait to get home, get a hot shower and a power nap.  I still kind of need to go into the office because I have to put together a document for a customer who needs to quit humping my leg - that expression is courtesy my boss.

Of note, I celebrated my seventh anniversary with my company this week.  That's nearly a half century in dog years.

I'll celebrate with Twizzlers.