We're damn close to a little reunion in Bozeman. In about 60 hours, I will be making my grand entrance into a town that may not be ready for me. The city of Bozeman needs to be prepared for debauchery the likes of which it's never seen before--at least not from me. Be prepared, Bozeman, for me to drink two, maybe three beers in my triumphant return. Be prepared for me to be in bed by 11 and awake by 6. Be prepared for me to drive into town at exactly the speed limit in my rental SUV. Yes, I play the game a little differently than I used to and I want to warn you all so it doesn't come as too big of a surprise. Even with all my settling down, however, I could revert back to the good ol' days--if only for just a weekend--with a mere suggestion of the fun we used to have.
I've been in the Flathead Valley now for about nine days and I'm seeing the sun today for the very first time. It really is pretty here, but I've never seen whiter people in my life. Everybody I've seen this morning was squinting as if their mom turned on the light, senselessly waking them from the deep slumber wherein they dreamt about kicking home run after home run in the playground kickball playoffs. The residents of this valley seem annoyed by natural light and terrified by the prospect of spending the next couple of months with excessive exposure to said light.
The job is great though. I'm learning a lot and doing so much faster than management had anticipated. Talk about low expectations... They'll be sending me on the road (under another marketing rep) a month earlier than previously scheduled. I may even spend next week in Florida on a last-minute training excursion.
I'll have to write more sometime when I'm not at work. Come see me this weekend. If you don't know how to get in touch with me, get in touch with Levi. He should have a pretty good idea where I'll be all weekend--in bed with him.