I promise I’ll stop talking about this soon, if only so that I can start griping about how bad Iron Fist is, but since the last couple of days have been one-sentence posts and at least part of the reason for this blog is so that I can remember my own life I’m gonna write about it a bit more.

• There may or may not be a post coming about institutional sexism in the furniture business, mostly depending on what kind of a mood I’m in tomorrow.  Because… man.  Wow.
• I got horrifyingly sick Thursday morning and had to be carted back to the hotel from the vendor meetings; I threw up a few times as well as a few other digestive horrors and spent the rest of the day in bed.  A few hours later, my roommate was also brought back to the room sick as hell, but with entirely different symptoms.  Trying to navigate around eating enough that I wasn’t passing out with the mix of diarrhea and painful gas that I was experiencing on Friday while navigating through airports and riding on planes is not an experience I care to ever repeat.
• About 10% of the people on the trip went down on Thursday; my roommate and I were far from the only ones.  Curiously, fully half of the ones I know about were also from Indiana.  Which is weird.
• But back to the plane thing: I didn’t mind finding out that my last flight of the trip was delayed by half an hour, because we had a 40-minute layover and that seemed a bit tight.  An hour and ten minutes, I figured, gave me enough time to grab something to eat so that I had a meal between noon and getting back home at eleven.  So you can imagine how pissed and horrified I was when I checked my phone while I was eating and discovered that my flight wasn’t fucking delayed any more.  As in they moved the departure time back and then moved it back forward again.  I was in the B terminal when I discovered this.  My gate was C24.  They counted up.  I was sweaty, completely out of breath, and violently pissed off by the time I got to my gate, and they were paging me over the intercom.
• The fact that a sweaty, pissed-off fat man who didn’t have time to go to the bathroom after a meal and has been fighting digestive problems all day is literally the last person on earth you want to be sitting next to on a plane is not going to stop me from bitching about my seatmate tomorrow.
• In general I didn’t like Denver very much– no one should live in a place where the air gives you diarrhea– but at this time I’m going to do the reasonable thing and not blame the city for it.  I was on the north side and pretty much confined to the hotel, the store, and the highway between.  That part of town is full of factories, warehouses and weed dispensaries with varying degrees of unclever names and it’s filthy and brown.  I’m sure there are parts of Denver that are cool and fun.  I didn’t see any of them.  But I’m sure they’re there somewhere.
• For the record, I support marijuana legalization but generally marijuana culture annoys the piss out of me.
• The conference itself was well worth the time, though.  As a teacher I’m not used to that, which I’ve said before– professional development is supposed to be either insulting or worthless or both.  This was a good use of both my time and the company’s money, which I find amazing.  I didn’t like the crippling illness part or being away from my family for a week but other than that it was all good.  I even met some nice people!  That doesn’t happen often.

More tomorrow.  Can’t bitch about Iron Fist if I haven’t watched it.