The Travel Job

The only drawback to my travel-related job is that I only get to travel in Texas. Tuscany? Not so much.

So I think it's super thoughtful of them to go to such pains to simulate massive jet lag.

Ike is now a Category 3 hurricane, did you know? Of course, he's still several days away. And his path looks like he might just wobble (meteorologists just love the word "wobble;" and who can blame them?) far enough north to hit the southern tip of Florida - not that the southern tip of Florida ever stopped anybody; besides which, it's unclear whether the northern turn at the end of the current 5-day forecast will continue to carry him north, or if he's just trying to be a little shit and hit Every Single Island in the Bahamas. Bastard.

In any case I should get this coming weekend off. It might come in handy for trying to rebuild a sleep schedule that never was that strong to begin with.

I should think Russia would be lovely in late summer, too, wouldn't you? Just imagine sitting at a quaint little sidewalk cafe near the Red Square, sipping a mojito* and admiring the luxuriant moustaches of the passerby. Of course, where I've always wanted to go is Ireland. Or Cornwall, where I would join the task of reviving the Cornish language. I might also raise sheep.

They have sheep in Texas, too.


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*I'm trying, Robbie, but I'm feeling kind of tapped out lately.