So this past Sunday was July 5. It marked an anniversary of sorts for me. Because 10 years ago on that day was my first day working for the San Francisco 49ers. Ten years. I can’t even believe it. Man, I’m getting old.

People always thought it was odd to start on July 5. But it was a Monday. And also, when you work in the NFL, usually the 4th of July is your last opportunity to take any vacation for the rest of the year. Because training camp starts just a few weeks after that and it is time to get focused and get ready for the season.

(Side note: I once went home mid-July, very close to the opening of training camp, because my sister had just had a baby. My nephew was born on June 26 and I HAD to go see him before the season started. I wasn’t going to go a whole 8 months without seeing my first nephew. And believe me, I got a rash of shit for taking vacation so late in the summer.)

I can remember almost every single thing about my first day. I remember exactly what I was wearing. I have a perfect visual in my head of me standing in the Public Relations office, knowing that at that moment, life couldn’t get any better.

I was so nervous. It had been awhile since I had started a new job. And this was my first REAL job. And I was living all by myself, in a state where I didn’t know a single soul, 3,000 miles away from my family. And it was the fucking San Francisco 49ers for Pete’s sake. There were Hall of Famers walking around me all the time! It was nothing like working in college sports or in minor league baseball when you could say you knew those stars before they were famous.

At the time of my first day, I was staying at a hotel around the corner from the 49ers facility in Santa Clara. It was all very new to me. I had just driven up that weekend from Arizona (I had to pick up the rest of my stuff from college that I had stored) and couldn’t move into my apartment until later in the week. My friend Connie caravaned up to California with me from Arizona. And we splurged and went to Togo’s for dinner and sat out on the lawn of the hotel and watched the fireworks being set off from Great America on the 4th of July.

My friend Teri, who is the wife of my old boss at the Niners, she always makes fun of me about that first day. She always makes fun of me for many reasons, but she used to always joke about me on my first day. When I got there, when I asked how I was doing, I apparently said “I’m nervous. It’s my first real job.” Which, hey! I’m just being honest. But Kirk must have told Teri and she laughed because she’s old and she doesn’t even remember her first job because it was so long ago. (Actually she probably does. And if  you get her drunk enough, she’ll tell you all about it. And she’ll probably serenade you with Paradise By The Dashboard Light by Meatloaf.)

Most of the day was a blur. Frozen in my memory is the image of me standing right by my desk, the one I would sit at for three years, trying to look professional in my blue dress shirt and black pants, hoping I wouldn’t throw up from the nervousness.

My one memory that will stand out from that week was as I was sitting at my desk with my head down, proofreading the media guide probably, someone came up to me, stuck his hand out and said “Hi, I’m Bill.” And as I looked up, I was staring into the face of Hall of Fame coach, the LEGEND, Bill Walsh. And I think I told him my name. And probably shook his hand for an inappropriate amount of time. And kept it to myself (until now), lest Teri make fun of me for something else.

Working there was an experience. It is an experience I wouldn’t change for all the money in the world. It was hard work. I struggled with so many things. I made a lot of mistakes. But I also learned a hell of a lot. I am the worker and the person I am today because of the six years I spent working there. I made friendships that will last for a lifetime. I had to be strong because I was literally all alone when I moved there.  I grew up. A LOT.

I think back to my almost-22 year old self and I almost wish I could be her again. I wish I could have that rampant ambition, that slightly less jaded outlook on the world, the feeling that the world and thousands of opportunities were just waiting there, at my feet, waiting for me to take hold of them and run as fast as I could.

I wish I could shelter her from a lot of the stuff she is going to go through. I wish I could tell her to worry less and enjoy life more. I wish I could tell her that having a big mouth is no longer endearing in the professional world.

But I can’t. And that’s OK. Because she survived, she grew, she learned, she enjoyed life. She had to go through these things. She had to learn, had to get knocked down a few times to learn how to brush herself off and move on. She had to experience LIFE.

And I wouldn’t tell her to do anything different because I think we’re both pretty happy with the way it has all panned out. No regrets.

I do this with the simple phrase “at my old job.”

I know that I do it because it is my way of telling people “oh, yeah, I totally know what I’m doing. We did that at my old job.” It is my way of letting people know that I really am competent. That I was hired for a reason. And that I’m willing to put my nose to the grindstone and hit the ground running and all kinds of other cliches.

I’m guessing the only time I never did this was my first job, which was when I worked with my dad and didn’t know a damn thing about working in an office. But I’d imagine since I was an angsty teen, most of the words that came out were whiny and made people stabby.

When I started at the Niners, I don’t think I did it a lot. My job prior to the 49ers was working in the Arizona State Sports Information department. So while still sports media relations, college and the NFL were a little different. The best difference was clips were printed out on the computer, NOT pasted to gold pieces of paper. I would venture to guess those student interns at ASU are still cutting clips and pasting them to the same gold paper. Over 10 years later.

But I was young! And fresh! And impressionable! Also, if something wasn’t done how I was used to doing it, at the Niners I just CHANGED the way we did it. Oh to be 22 and have your first job again and not know about office politics.

When I left the Niners, things were a lot different. So many people assumed because you worked in sports, you couldn’t work in the corporate atmosphere. Like working in the NFL is just naked men and sexual harassment and free shoes galore! Well, it is like that but we did do actual WORK. The same kind of work that people in PR agencies and corporate offices do. Just different clients.

For six years in the NFL I had to prove that I was more than a woman, that I was a capable PR person, that I wasn’t there to sleep with players. Every new coach that came in was another time I had to prove myself. I proved myself with my work and with my not sleeping with players. It got old, let me tell you. Before I left, the 49ers had hired Mike Nolan. And there we were, his first day on the job, and every time he needed something, he looked around me and asked for a guy. Looked me right in the eye, as a Public Relations MANAGER, and asked me to get someone lower than me to do something for him because that person was a male. After six years of that, I had ENOUGH. And also, I’ll always think Mike Nolan is a ginormous douchebag because of this. I was so happy when he was shit-canned.

(This was so not the direction I had planned for this post, FYI. Yay for stream of consciousness.)

Once I got out of football, I had to prove myself on other levels. I had to prove my knowledge of products and services outside of first downs and nickel defense. I had to prove that I was competent. I had to prove that the person they interviewed was the person they had indeed been hired. I had to come through.

It’s a hard pill to swallow. When you start a new job, you’re coming off an old job where you proved yourself and, hopefully, they trusted you. So part of your brain thinks that you can just step right in and it will all be the same at the new job. But every company is different. And you have to learn how thing are run.

I swear I’m not trying to be a dick when I mention how things were done at my old job. I’m not trying to make things run the same way just because I don’t like change. I honestly think it is because when it comes to proving myself, I’m always going to being that female in a man’s world of football and having to prove myself over and over for all the wrong reasons.

It is Wednesday night and this has already been a tough week. It has been a LONG week. And it is just half over. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get the hang of this waking up early and going into work thing. And also, winter? You suck balls. Even more so when one goes from 30 degree temps outside to 40 degree temps inside the office. I can never get warm!

I know you’re all sitting there saying to yourself “oh, shut your stupid complainy hole, you ungrateful tramp! YOU ARE NEVER HAPPY!” (Actually, that was just Slynnro saying that last part.) And I know. I KNOW! I am not complaining. Well, I am just a little. But only because I’m tired. And when I’m tired I’m whiney and annoying. As opposed to when I’m not tired when I’m just annoying.

I am happy to have a job. I am happy that I was able to have a little mini-vacation and still be able to pay my bills. I am happy that there is still severance left and I can pay off some debt. I am happy with my job.

But, I am tired. And out of my routine. And it takes a lot out of me. I don’t remember how I did it before, just a few short months ago. I mean, the last time I was employed and doing this waking up early everyday thing I was going into a job that did not want me. They no longer needed my services and yet made me stay for 60 days. Which seems like an OK deal, but was one of the hardest things I’ve had to go through career-wise.

I just needed to share. So now I’m off to bed. Because that dip for our potluck isn’t going to make itself.

Hey! So I had my first day at work on Friday. I will not go into any details on here, but would like to say THANK YOU to all of you who wished me luck! My first day went really well. I learned a lot and everyone is really nice. Right before I left on Friday, I spun in a circle in the lobby and sang “I think I’m gonna like it here” a la Annie. (I even wore a red shirt.)

It was nice to start on a Friday and get my feet wet with the being alert and paying attention and using my brain on more than “Me hungry. Need food. Call for burrito. NOM NOM NOM.” It was a packed day with the learning and a really good way to get back into the working world. Because when the day was over, BAM! it was the weekend!

The only problem with that was that I fell right back into my old unemployed habits as soon as I got home. I came home and drank a lot of wine and then stayed up too late and then slept in late on both Saturday and Sunday morning. I didn’t try to get back into the routine or anything. And now it is Sunday night and I’m not even tired. Monday will be a blast. Thank God we have a Starbucks in the lobby.

I’m sure this full week coming up will be rough come Friday when I’ve had to use my brain for five whole days straight. And then I will feel I have earned a weekend of sleeping in. As opposed to this weekend where I was just drunk and/or lazy.

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In other weekend news, I actually missed unemployment when I went down to do my laundry on a Sunday afternoon. Did you know that like EVERYONE does their laundry on Sunday afternoons? Or is that just my apartment complex? Oh, mid-weekday afternoon laundry time, I miss you so.

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I also spent too much of my leftover severance money on clothes today. I wanted to go shopping last week, but didn’t get around to it. (I also apparently didn’t get around to doing laundry in the middle of the day.) So I figured since it was freezing out today (oh, yes it was people. IT SNOWED!) that I would do a little shopping online. I found some cute things and I’m sure that some things won’t fit right and I’ll have to return them, which will make the amount I spent a little less obscene.

But this way maybe I’ll be able to do The Working Closet, hopefully without Slynnro openly mocking me in front of strangers. Now I just need a full length mirror.

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What else did I do this weekend? Not a whole lot. I cried over Dr. Mark Greene coming back to ER. (Seriously people, he didn’t even have to say anything, he just showed up and the tears, they were a flowin’.) And I’m happy to know that I have fellow ER lovers/sobbers on Twitter to commiserate with.

Oh, right, and I signed up for online dating. (GASP!) At Chemistry.com. It is one site I have never tried. It’s like eHarmony, what with the personality matching and stuffs. But since eHarmony tends to lean more conservatively, I figured I’d try this one. Right now I’ve only done the test and uploaded my photos. I’m trying to go in with an open mind and not be so Judgey McJudgerson. WHICH IS HARD TO DO, letmetellyou.

Which brings me back full circle to the headline/blog title thing. Because I NEVER know what to write on those online dating profiles. I always go full cheese, people. Because I think it is funny. But then I forget that if you don’t know me, you probably think I’m the LAMEST PERSON EVER. Well, actually you may think that if you do know me. Bygones.

Like for instance, my first “headline” was “Snarky, Sports Fan Looking For Her Go-To Receiver.” Which I can’t even type without either laughing or vomiting. I finally changed it to “Loves To Laugh.” Which, too, is lame, but kind of cute, and also something I repeat in my profile part. Because I do love to laugh. Mostly at my own jokes. I’m fun at parties.

I went for not a lot of info in the profile. I’ve never done that before. I’m going to see how this works.

Really I should just write:

Look, I love TV and am a lazy slob. Also, I like to drink a lot of alcohol. Different kinds – wine, beer, whiskey – so clearly I don’t discriminate. I don’t like to work out, my pants are too tight and sometimes I talk to my two cats. (Yes, TWO.) I’m really funny. I love to laugh, especially when people fall. I have a blog, so don’t do anything stupid, or I will have to talk about you. I like sports, but not playing them. (Read above where I mention being lazy. Please don’t fail the reading comprehension portion of the exam.) I prefer watching sports in a bar, which combines my three loves – TV, sports and alcohol. Do I sound like your kind of girl? Hit me back, you.

P.S. I’m tall, so midgets need not apply.

I wonder how well that would go over?

It’s a good thing I don’t talk about jobs and stuff here because then you wouldn’t care to hear about a job I had during my summers in college.

I should probably point out that I’ve never held a retail or service industry job in my life. I never worked in fast food or at the mall or in a restaurant. In high school, I worked for my dad. My freshman year in college I was an usher for ASU football and basketball games, as well as Arizona Cardinals games. And I only did that because I got to usher Super Bowl XXX. After that, I worked in the media relations office in the athletic department. And sometimes I would work Phoenix Suns games. I didn’t do typical high school/college jobs.

I also had a job, during two summers in college, working for a minor league baseball team. I was an intern for the Kane County Cougars, who, at the time, were a Single A affiliate of the Florida Marlins.

It was kind of weird how I got the job. A lady that had previously worked for my dad, Heidi, somehow knew a lady who worked in accounting for the Cougars. And she just happened to be sleeping with the General Manager of the team, as I later found out. So I gave her a call, sent in my resume and basically got the job. I was hired to help answer phones and anywhere else they needed me. I was the low woman on the totem pole. My first few weeks I spent sitting in an office reading a book. And getting PAID for it.

After they figured out I could do other things besides read and answer phones, I spent most of the time working in the ticket office selling tickets and calling groups about their tickets and setting menus for the outings and doing a lot of the things I have done as an event coordinator in other jobs I have had since. But on game days, I basically helped wherever they needed me. I did any number of duties, including working the customer service booth, wrapping hot dogs, making snow cones, throwing cookies out into the stands in the 5th inning and pouring beer, underage I might add. (Actually, when I did pour beer, I was only allowed to pour until someone questioned my age. Even though I was close to 21. And I look young.)

I didn’t mind helping out. It kept things interesting. I hated the customer service booth because people are idiots. And I don’t know how many times I had to tell people “no, I don’t sell hot dogs/t-shirts/beer here.” And I once got into an argument/tiff with some other worker because I got to work the customer service booth, which was apparently a cushy job since I got to sit on my ass the whole game. And apparently I was the GM’s pet. Which they probably realized wasn’t true when I screamed at the GM in my second summer and quit two weeks early. (Funny thing? I have no idea what I was so mad about.)

There was one thing I hated about that job, one thing I prayed to get out of every game – trash duty. You see, in the minor leagues, you don’t have a team of people who clean up the stadium. You basically put your salaried employees and interns on that job. Everyone, including the GM, picked up trash after the game. And let me tell you it was one of the most disgusting things I have ever done. Imagine all the crap people eat and drink during a baseball game – peanuts, beer, nachos, soft pretzels, hot dogs. Now imagine all those things in one soggy pile. Now imagine having to pick said soggy, sloppy, smelly pile up and put into a trash bag.

I think I just remembered why I quit.

I got out of it more often than not. Because I volunteered to count ticket stubs, or clean up the ticket booths or because I was young and needed to get home and needed a nice man to walk me all the way to my car. (I can be very persuasive.) But the times I had to do it were awful. And I can never erase the smell of stale beer mixed with peanut shells from my memory.

Remember this next time you go to a baseball game and toss your peanut shells on the ground instead of in a cup. Some trash person will have to sweep that shit up.

And now I am faced with nothing to write. Because everything interesting that has happened to me in a week, nay a month, I put all in one freaking post. On top of that, my brain has already checked out of the workplace and is already unemployed and sitting on the couch in pajamas, watching the Price is Right and Spanish soap operas. (My brain speaks Spanish. Which is why Brain and Voice have a communication issue. But not Brain and Liver. Liver knows cerveza.) (That really wasn’t funny enough yesterday to be a running joke.) (Blame Brain and his NON-FUNCTIONING.)

This week at work is going to be the longest ever. Thankfully Google Reader is constantly refreshing (can you people just stop posting? Like for a week? My comment spreadsheet almost BLEW UP today. And I’m still over 200 unread posts.)

But the one thing I have to look forward to is the food. This week is the Tour de Taco.

See, I love Mexican food. I could eat it every meal of every day. I never get tired of it. There are so many options! I even love Taco Bell.

The neighborhood that my office is in has some of the best AUTHENTIC (not Tex Mex) Mexican food I have ever had in my life. We frequent a few of these places for lunch every week and even have a breakfast club that meets once a month at a Mexican place. Want to know how much I love Mexican food? I get up EARLY, earlier than a normal work day, early as in before the sun comes up, to go eat breakfast before work. That is how good it is. That is love right there.

So back a few weeks ago, we decided that this week we would have to hit up all our favorite places. Especially since I am not really going to go out of my way to go to this neighborhood in the future since it is not close to my house. And I have a great Mexican place less than a block from my front door. Which means I can shove my face full of carne asada without breaking a sweat. Or wasting gas in my car.

So today we went to the Mexican grocery store, which has cheap, excellent tacos. And we can sit and watch the Telenovelas and pretend like we know what is going on. The one we used to watch ended. (Spanish soap operas end. Unlike their American counterparts. Weird. And there is A LOT more sex and big boobs and less clothes.)

Tomorrow morning is Mexican breakfast. Tomorrow’s lunch is another Mexican place that has flame-grilled chicken, rice, beans and guacamole on their menu. That’s it.

Thursday is lunch at some fancy schmancy French place that my boss picked out. But it is a free meal and I will be having the steak.

And really, it is good that I have the food plans because it keeps Brain focused. He likes to know when his next meal is. Seeing as he’s already unemployed and is unsure of that fact. Plus knowing we’re going to a restaurant will force Brain to be alert and not drool on the table and fellow diners. Or blurt out inappropriate things like “SHUT YOUR MEAT FACE!” to my boss.

But today at work I got my 60 days notice. Come September 5 I will no longer be employed.

(pregnant pause)

Let me just tell you, I had no idea. When our VP (the one who just did this three months ago to the rest of the department and who is leaving herself on July 7) called me into her office, I assumed she was going to talk about something work related or have me write an announcement. So I marched my happy ass in there with my notepad ready to have something to do. Clueless, I has it.

She jumped right into the “we’re eliminating your position” and I think I actually heard the air escape from my chest.

I held back the tears as much as I could. Not completely because I’m a weepy mess these days. But it is hard because as much as I’m not surprised, I’m still surprised. And it sucks to get laid off. No matter whether you see it coming or not.

Here’s the thing, I have been bored silly for about a month. I have had nothing to do. There are still some other members of the department finishing up their 90 days, so I was optimistic that once they left, things would pick up. Apparently the new person in charge of our department thought differently. Apparently they just didn’t think it was viable to have two people in the Corporate Communications department, both with nothing to do. Once person can do nothing for a lot less than two people.

So because of that, I wasn’t terribly shocked. But again, I didn’t even see it coming.

The fact is that I haven’t ever felt safe since November when all these changes started. And I have until September to spend my bored days at work looking for a new job, getting paid to find a new job. And I will also receive a severance payment, which makes my stress level, right now at least, very low.

The worst part is that I have now been laid off three times in the last 3 1/2 years. I have had four jobs since college and have been laid off from three of them. Kind of depressing, no? I know this economy sucks and it is happening to a lot of people. I am beyond thankful at the package that I am getting and the fact that I have 60-plus days to start looking. But I still can’t help shake the failure feeling creeping into my mind because seriously, someone who loses their job this much has to have some fatal flaw, right? (Please do not point any of this out to me, especially right now. It does not make me feel any better.)

I’m doing rather well. I haven’t even drowned my sorrows in anything besides Sugar-free Kool-Aid and Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches today. I’m pretty sure it hasn’t completely hit me yet though.

I’ve had a lot of time to think about all this today. Everything happens for a reason. I know that for a fact, especially after getting laid off two times prior to this. I have always bounced back and moved on to something bigger and better. I have no doubts that I will be fine. I am resilient. I have been my whole life.

And also, it gives me that push to start working on things that I’ve been thinking about doing for some time but just haven’t had the motivation to do, namely writing my book. It is really what I want to do with my life. Thirty years and I’ve FINALLY figured out what I want to do with my life. And I think the way this has worked out may be my opportunity to put my nose to the grindstone and get going on my dream.

It’s about damn time I do something for me and not for anyone else.

I’m pretty sure those readers won’t be returning.

In case they do (oh hai new readers! I’m sometimes funny! And there’s Bacon here!), I shall attempt to write something better. Attempt being the key word. I’m still sick and my tooth is sore and Root Canal Day can’t get here fast enough. And I’d also like my nose to stop running so that I can re-grow the skin under my nose that the Kleenex has RUBBED OFF like sandpaper.

Anyway, so last week at work I had my review. It wasn’t my annual review since I’ve only been there 10 months, but it was my six-month review a few months late. Because right around the six-month mark, we decided to like fire almost everyone in the company. And then there was scrambling and more cuts and whatever, it’s four months too late.

It went really well. There were no surprises. They said a lot of good things. They mentioned things I should work on and issues I’ve had in the past that have been addressed and improved on. It was very nice for two people to sing my glorious praises for a good half hour. I mean, they are only human.

(Which is all a big damn lie because as big of an attention famewhore that I can be at times, it is very awkward to sit in a room with two people telling you all the good things you do and all I just did was sit there and let out a weak “thanks!” every now and then.)

I have had some very interesting reviews in my life. My boss at the Niners, who I am still friends with today, wasn’t always so good in that area of managing people. (His wife reads here (Hi Teri!) so I hope he doesn’t get offended. And just looks at it as constructive criticism. And when you send the mail bomb, please send it to my work address.)

So we had the yearly reviews at the Niners, like all companies. I haven’t mentioned it a lot on here, but I had some very difficult years at the Niners. I grew up working there. I spent most of my 20s working there. I had never worked in an office before (besides my father’s) so this was all new to me. And since I’m a little *ahem* outspoken, I had a lot to learn when it came to biting my tongue and playing the office politics game.

And let’s just say, I sucked at that game. I still kind of do. I might be better working from home where I have the lowest possibility of saying the wrong thing.

So a lot of my Niners reviews and one-on-one conversations with my boss were all about shutting my trap and learning from my erroneous ways and shedding a lot of tears. Mostly me. And guys don’t like it when girls cry in front of them. It’s too bad I cry when I burn my toast, so it doesn’t take much.

But the thing that happened every year when I would have my review is that I would get blindsided by something. There would be some thing, some issue that he would bring up that I wasn’t expecting. Some sort of fault or mistake I made that became a big deal. The problem was that most of these issues were OLD issues. Something I did months prior that wasn’t mentioned to me at the time, that became a weakness on my review. Written down and filed for ALL ETERNITY.

And it pissed me off. I know I’m not perfect. I’m pretty damn close, but I have my faults and things I have worked on. And if I ever worked for my old boss again, I think he’d be the first person to notice the changes I’ve made as I have grown up and matured in the workplace. So I never expect my review to be flawless. There is the “Things to Work On” section for a reason. No one is perfect.

But I prefer for issues to be addressed at the time they occur. So that I KNOW I did something wrong when I do it so that I can fix it and not do it again. Yes, it may take you a few times of telling me because I have very few brain cells left from all the alcohol I consume, but I will make all attempts to fix it. Again, attempt being the key word.

So when issues are brought up six months later, I get pissed because I’m not aware of this issue that more than likely I’ve completely forgotten about and also because I hate the unexpected. Julie Chen can kiss my ass because I will not expect the unexpected. No matter what her skinny, stupid ass says.

It has almost ruined me a bit. I go into every job review expecting something like this. I expect some issue to be brought up that I’m not expecting. I expect some problem to be brought up that I wasn’t even sure was a PROBLEM. And that is NOT NORMAL.

I actually mentioned this at my review last week because it was a refreshing change, this not being blindsided by something. And I wanted them to know that I appreciated them communicating issues with me as they arose. I am aware that I have things to work on and I’m better able to work on them when I know the problem when it happens. Again, the booze-related memory loss plays into this. And I appreciate that they have no problem telling me positive feedback when appropriate. They are good about handing out praise, so there really were NO shocks in my review. Everything said was something I had heard before. 

And really, it never hurts to have people tell you over and over just how awesome you are. I for one never get tired of it.

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Also, remember to cast your vote today for my friend Jenny for Chicago Woman of the Year! Less than a week left!

Second things second, I’m only one of three left in the department. My entire department at work was dismantled on Friday. And I wasn’t expecting it at all. In total, we lost 7. By July 1 there will be three people left in the marketing department. Since I’ve been there since last May we’ve lost 11 people.

I’m not sure how I feel. Yes, I’m glad I have a job. But I’m not sure if it is going to be a job worth going in to anymore. And that six months severance would have been nice to pay off some debt. And I am glad that I didn’t lose my job for the third time in three years.

I’m heart broken. There is one person I work with who has worked for this company her whole life. This is the only job she knows. She’s been there almost 40 years. I would gladly switch places with her because she shouldn’t be treated this way by what she considers her family. And I’ve been through it before so I know I can bounce back from this.

I’m scared because the VP of the department is also leaving. And she’s been the biggest champion for our efforts. And I don’t know how things are going to go without her and reporting to someone outside the marketing realm.

I know everything happens for a reason. I’m just not sure what the reason is. And until then, I spend my time between being sad, scared, stressed and scared some more.

Or probably, that’s just me.

But my brain is fried. I have nothing. I can’t even think of anything remotely interesting to write about. And my fail safe this week was to answer the questions for Bacon, yet I left Bacon at home. And he doesn’t really like it when I make shit up for him. So if you have any more questions, feel free to leave them. You know, questions like “Why did ASU get hosed by the bowl selection committee?” Although, even Bacon can’t figure out why it happened. He’s convinced they are all vegetarians. And pig haters.

So yeah, that’s all I have. The conference is going well. This is a really good group and I’ve had a good time with them so far. And yes, you can all rest easy and not fear the sky will be falling or pigs will be flying any time soon because I was out drinking until after 1 AM on Monday night. So everything is right with the world.

The one thing I love about this group is that they are a bit older and more responsible and are actually here to LEARN at the training and not just party. And I remembered that I’m 30 and I DO get along better with people my own damn age. So it is nice. Because we all have that switch in our brain that knows that drinking past last call is never a good idea. And we’ve all been fairly alert for the sessions. And wow! What a difference! Am such an adult.

Although. I am really mad about something. And I cannot talk about it here.?I can’t say anything. Something happened today that I want to tell someone about because it pisses me off. But I wasn’t there. I can’t be sure. On top of this, I have to work very closely with this person on all the trainings here on out. And we already have a rocky relationship because this person can treat me like dirt and I don’t much appreciate that. So I need to keep the peace. And believe me, since I’m not one to hold my tongue EVER, this is going to be tough. Especially because I’m a child and the next time this person pisses me off you know I’ll want to be all “Well at least?I didn’t?(insert bad thing here!) DURING training!”

I’m not proud. Just the way I’m wired.