At 8:48 a.m. today, my boss walked up to me and put a beer in my hand.
It was meant as congratulations for finishing the half-marathon.
I just wish I didn't have to wait until 10:30 to drink it (personal policy).
Tomorrow, the same company will send me off to scenic Columbia, Mo., for a rural healthcare journalism conference (and you scoffed whenever I talk about still being in the biz). For the unaware, Columbia is essential Missouri's version of Athens, only imagine OU having OSU's appetite for college sports.
Nonetheless, I haven't been on the road since January and seven rural hours will do the trick. I hear gas prices might have risen a bit since my last roadtrip.
But the company is paying quite a bit more than 23 cents per mile, so I'll cope.
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