"Has it really been two weeks since my last post? Inexcuseable and unacceptable. I don't have much to report on the running front. After a marathon, I typically only run about 20 miles a week for a month or two. Well, I'm on post-marathon week 3 and I'm right on track. I also haven't gained any weight which is surprising. Check that, it's not that surprising. I've been on the Diet Coke diet. I'm surprisingly full most of the time.
So I have a laundry list of items and zero time. I just didn't want you to think that I was ignoring you out of"
I wrote that two weeks ago. I don't remember why I was interrupted or what I was going to write, but because I don't want you guys to miss any of my very important thoughts, I'm including it in this very brief note.
Well, my seven weeks of Monday through Friday travel have come to an end. I now have at least two weeks at home before I am off to who knows where for who knows how long. Management consulting is definitely a business that keeps you on your toes. I won't talk anymore about work. Primarily because I don't want to get fired, but also because it is very dull. The most exciting part of my last engagement, which was in Pasadena, was my visit to Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles. Before I hear the accusations and see the hurt looks, yes, I cheated on my gluten-free diet. How could I not? Fried chicken and waffles covered with syrup and gravy. It could not be passed up. What happened next was somewhat comical and something that a co-worker and I now refer to as The Roscoe's Coma.
After eating two huge waffles, 1/4 fried chicken (dark meat), covered in gravy and syrup, we headed back to the client site where we proceeded to do, I'm not sure what we proceeded to do other than sit in our office, groan, and fart. At least I was discrete. My co-worker didn't even try. He just let them rip. I had to leave a few times it was that bad. I could tell that it was tough for him to look me in the eye today. Roscoe's Coma or not, that's just wrong.