Throwing Poo

Holy shit, do I haaaaaaate work conferences.   To me, sitting in homogeneous hotel meeting rooms listening to "experts" blather on about barely relevant topics is an unforgivable waste of life.  This week I'll be flushing four days of mine down the toilet.  Four days of being force-fed clichés, drinking company Kool-Aid and overpaying for hookers.  Fuck!

I'm not really sure if I'm going to make it this time.  It's only one day into the four-day workshop and I'm already hungrily eyeing a bottle of sleeping pills.  Not to mention the fact that I've got two more of these goddamn things in January and February. 

Time to pick up the pace on the whole figuring out my life thing.

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Here is a list of things a speaker said today that provoked inappropriate laughter on my part and evil stares from my colleagues (those humorless cunts):

"Have I got a great tool for you!"

"If you can't measure it, you can't manage it."

"The tool only works if you work the tool."

Every mention of the word "tool" thereafter

"I hope you found this session useful."

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I've called Nerdy Squirrel, Esq. twice tonight to complain about how much I'm hating this.  We actually had a serious discussion about me faking illness in order to get out of here. The mere mention of such a lame idea embarrasses the shit out of me. 

When did I turn into the fat kid at summer camp?