There is a defibrillator hanging on the wall of the call center. I'm not sure what to make of that. When I hurriedly shoved down my lunch just now--ah the glamour of a
I'm three minutes away from my big meeting of the day. It's been relatively mellow so far, knock on wood, except for the inevitable computer problems that occur on any business trip I've ever taken. Is there some kind of special Murphy's-style law for that?
Am in corporate drag. Face painted, hair tidy. But my feet are smelly. I have just realized this. I wore shoes I wouldn't mind getting destroyed by snow but it turns out they are my stinky shoes.
I am being called. Away!