I rolled into work this morning a little on the late side. I was really late. I was over four-hours late. I guess I needed the rest. I slept through my alarm and probably only awoke when the marimbas stopped. No one seemed to care though. The people I was supposed relieve had long since left, plus a couple new guys had shown up as additional relief. I hung around work for an hour, before heading off for the airport, by way of Pikes Market. I jaunted downtown for a quick photo-op, before heading off to SEATAC, where I sit now. I’m flying back through Denver again. On the way out I didn’t have to get off the plane. This time I have to change planes. I hope that I don’t sleep through the landing and eventually wake up somewhere strange. “Where am I, Oakland? Oh, you said Aukland.” Anne asked if my trip was successful. I told her from my point of view it was. I made a boatload of money. She meant from the company’s point of view, which I knew. She went on to tell me a joke: An engineering consultant was called in to fix a device. After a couple of taps of percussive maintenance he got it running again and handed them his bill for $50,000. What? All that money for only a couple of hammer blows they exclaimed. The engineer said the hammering was only cost a $100, but knowing where to hit it that’s worth $49,900. Over and out, folks.