Bleah and Stuff

The IRS is questioning something or other about the sale of our company that happened some time back. Something about the worth of Creator or other such accounting gobbledeegook. Shit that has nothing to do with the engineers. But, the IRS said they wanted to talk to the engineers, obviously because they have no idea what we do. A meeting was scheduled for Wednesday, with another meeting on Tuesday to talk to our lawyers about the Wednesday meeting. Again, nothing to do with engineers.

This morning I called and said the roads sucked and asked if they were really interested in risking my life for this stupid fucking meeting. Yes, they were. So, I sucked it up and headed out at noon. The roads were worse than what the DOT web site reported, mostly ice–covered, varying from 30-50 MPH, slower for the gawker slowdowns near the many accidents. It would've taken me over 12 hours to get to Peoria at that rate. Luckily, I got a call just before I hit Faribault, about 50 miles—or an hour and 45 minutes—from home and said the meeting was canceled. I told my manager, "it's about fucking time," and pulled off at Faribault and relaxed a bit from the white–knuckle drive, chock full of complete morons zooming past in the left lane because they are so much more important than everyone else.

Got home and worked, rather than wasting 3 days of not working because of that goddamned meeting. Went out later and blew snow all over the place. Yeeha to that!