Yesterday evening I realized that I don't really mind working late occasionally. But then I realized that this is mostly because swiping my ID card through the reader to get into the building after hours makes me feel like a secret agent.

Not that 6 PM even really qualifies as "working late", but you know what I mean.

I guess "working late" is more like the time we were grading homeworks until 1:30 AM, or the time we discovered that the credit card authorization system I was working on was accepting fake credit card numbers. "If those last two transactions actually went through," my supervisor told me, "then we're in a world of hurt."

I think what's missing from my current work environment is supervisors who use phrases like "a world of hurt". Although Prof. K and I did end up talking about late-70s pop-progressive rock for a while yesterday. I love both of my bosses, but Prof. J is definitely the square one.

This evening I'm heading out to the South Side with the incomparable KTT.

Those of you who know both of us and are familiar with the South Side know that this can only mean one thing: Mike and Tony's. That's right - "The Greek Answer to McDonald's".

Gyro joints always infuse me with a completely unearned sense of nostalgia. I really didn't spend that much time in such places as a kid, but for some reason I have a fondness for them.

Probably because I love gyros.

Or maybe formica.