NP: The Police, Message In A Box

It's tough not knowing exactly who reads this thing, while having a vague notion of who knows about it. And I don't just mean imagining that ex-girlfriends are hanging on my every word. Sometimes I find myself holding back. There's that pesky "having a conscience" thing about gratuitously slamming people in this space if I think there's a chance they might be reading, although I've certainly suspended that in the past with startlingly positive results. All I'm going to say right now is that I feel kinda old, or maybe out of touch, or almost certainly intellectually superior. Some of this may be driven by one mildly recurring event in my daily grind, coupled with last night's South Park (but why is she famous?), I don't know.

Don't get me wrong, I like working at a "young" company. It just provides some cognitive dissonance every now and again. If by "now and again," I mean "lunch."