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I love it when I unlock the door to my office on a Monday morning with only 2 hours of sleep to find my voicemail light is blinking like the strobes at a 80's dance club. I love when I log into the corporate network and find my inbox full of inquiries sporting the vagueness and validity of a Miss Cleo answer. I love having people scurry to my office before my first cup of coffee and tell me the sky is falling. Chicken Little, please fuck off. Perceived problems propagated by the rumor mill are the bane of my existence here. I don't have all the answers. I just want some coffee... good coffee. This is the dilemma of being the only CCIE in a global Fortune 20 company. I wish selling ice cream from one of those push carts on the beach was more lucrative. There is something to be said for mindless employment. I shouldn't complain really. I'm much happier paying my rent with my intellect that with my hands. It doesn't take too many days in a 150 degree reactor room to convince me... but then again, I guess we can only really appreciate where we are by embracing where we came from... so maybe Chicken Little wasn't so bad after all? Nah. At least at the post office you get to shoot people when you lose it.