No one who has to be up as early as I have to be up in the morning has any business blogging at this hour.
And yet I must.
So tonight it ensued - over a drink or two, naturally - that one of the industry contacts on this trip is familiar with the old nightmare marketing company I worked for in Corpus. He was in fact flabbergasted that I used to work for that awful place, but very interested to hear the inside perspective I was able to provide.
But then I had to go and tell the story about Ursula, its CEO, whom he's met, and now he's going to have nightmares. Nice going, Beth.
I've told the story here before. But this computer is too slow for me to go and look it up, or at least I'm too lazy. Suffice it to say it's a story I tried explaining to my companions I absolutely could not tell, which resulted in them buying me more wine and being quite insistent, so I did. Delicately. I tried not to be too graphic. It concerned the CEO of my old company, her husband, the patio of their island home, and a complaint from the neighbors...
"Oh my God!" shouted one of my coworkers, when I'd skirted the horrible truth as well as I could, "you're talking about public muff-diving!"
So much for subtlety.
Well, tomorrow's another day. I hope my coworkers will still respect me in the morning.