I'm too drunk to eat lunch

Someone at work just poured me a glass of bourbon. The glass has a green stop sign on it that says "OOPS".

It is some mighty tasty bourbon. I have requested regular refills until 5PM, which will afford me a few hours to sober up before I drive to a cheap movie tonight (it's Tuesday, a.k.a. stick-it-to-the-man night).

I am about to write a chapter about managing SQL Servers, and it has been recently argued by my coworkers that a belly full of bourbon is the only right and proper state for this particular act of authoring.

So trip update: a couple of days ago, my Yukon sister "hucked her meat" * off a three-foot drop when she was in a fairly aggressive mood, and wound up breaking her leg. At first they thought it was a broken ankle. But no, is a spiral fracture of the fibula. She is having surgery tomorrow to put in some pins to hold her bone together. I thought maybe we were going to cancel the trip, or delay it, or shorten it.

But she just called to say we're definitely going. She just won't hike. She said, "For god's sake, I went drinking and dancing on crutches the night I did it, did yoga yesterday, and I'm paddling some class three rapids next week. I got them to give me a waterproof cast." She is unstoppable. The cast comes off a day or so before we get flown out in the Cessna.

*Supposedly this is mountain biker slang for taking a jump, though it sounds like it came straight from the pornolizer.