Well, it's finally happened. I'm corporate. So corporate in fact that I have a breakfast meeting with the VP of marketing tomorrow at Starbucks. What the shit? I keep waiting for my boss to point to the hidden camera and tell me to get my ass back to the trenches where I belong. Sigh.

Now that I have my finger on the pulse of the company, it dawns on me that where I used to have my finger might not have been so bad. Sure, it didn't come with a company credit card, all expense paid trips across the country, or my own office, but it did come with a very tangible sense of hard work. Hard work these days is trying to keep the guy that just walked into my office from seeing the obscene headline on my Onion Page-a-Day calendar. Seriously. Last Wednesday's headline was a poll about how America likes its cock. Black, it should be noted, was ahead in the polls by nearly 25%.

I know a lot of people would love to have my job and all its status affirming little nuances, but I miss being the person that the corporate office had to call when they wanted to know what was really going on out there. Now I spend most of my day leaning dangerously far back in my chair and wondering what the weather's like outside.

Oh well, at least I'm always home in time for Lost.