I could get lost in my own back yard.

Do you know what's awesome? Apparently it's becoming standard practice around here to turn big copy and production jobs over to the drafters instead of the project admins. This is probably not so awesome for CAG, who loves getting to hide in the print shop for hours at at ime, but personally, I'm thrilled by this turn of events.

Do you know what's not so awesome, but kind of funny, in the "if I don't laugh about this I'll cry" kind of way? Being so tired when you leave the office that your ADD takes over completely and you zone out and miss your exit.

But wait: this story needs more set-up.

Basically, there are two ways to get home from my office. One is the Interstate/Route 66 combo that takes me through two big towns, a lot of stop lights, and past the big Cherokee casino with it's giant Vegas-style marquis that sits right by the highway and can be seen for miles; otherwise known as a Major Hassle, or The Way To Be Avoided At All Costs.

The other way is to exit from the interstate onto a state highway that only goes through one big town, has but one stop light, and is practically a straight shot to my front door; otherwise known as The Way I Usually Go.

So, I missed my exit, and ended up having to take the hassle-way home. But that's not the funny-sad part. The funny-sad part is how long it took me, once I realized something was amiss, to figure out what had happened and where I was. My thought process went something like this:

Daydream daydream daydream. Huh, that McDonald's billboard is new. Do they mean the McD's inside the Wal-Mart? Weird that that would get it's own billboard. Daydream daydream obliviousness daydream. What's that bright thing up there? Is that a casino sign? When did they put a casino sign there? WHY did they put one there? The casino's miles from here. Wait... none of these signs look familiar! What the hell? Oh my God, where the hell am I? Panic! Cursing! Pleading to God! Oh, wait... there's the casino. You're still on the interstate, doofus. Dammit.

In my defense, for all I knew, by the time I came back from zoning out I'd already driven halfway to Missouri. If not for the casino sign snapping me out of my fugue there's actually a good chance I'd have driven all the way there.

I just plain should not be allowed to drive when I'm tired.