I'm in San Francisco now. Here's the important stuff.

Atlanta airport could only be made more confusing if they forced you to use calculus to work out which gate your plane leaves from. I'm sure they're working on this right now under the guise of 'security'. Speaking of which, I had to take off my shoes three times across two flights. This is ridiculous.

Arrived in at 8pm SF time, which translates to 4am Irish time. Greeted outside of Powell by a large black gentleman shouting "WELCOME HOME!" at me. Got my bags to my hotel and wandered around to get my bearings, ended up breaking my sleepiness completely. Didn't get to sleep until about 2am SF time.

Woke up at 6am SF time. My body is losing the fight against the jetlag. Decided to hunt out the nearest Taco Bell to get some breakfast. This took me down Eddy Street, which, as it turns out, is not a particularly nice part of town. Some guy was jacking a car as I went down the street, and I guess I stared too long, because I got a load of "'sup? 'sup?" Then he yanked up his tshirt and showed me his gun. This is probably the closest I've come to shitting my pants in my adult life.

Went down to In and Out burger (thanks punchbear!). I didn't so much finish it as it finished me. I spite of this, the guy next to me managed to demolish two meals, one straight after the other. Stronger man than I.

Before I arrived in the office today, I went two days without having a conversation with anyone. It was starting to make me a little stir crazy. On the subject of crazies, SF seems to have a higher percentage of crazy shouty people than anywhere else I've visited.

I really, really miss my girlfriend.