Today is the 28th anniversary of my starting at IDX Systems Corporation. It was a Monday as well. I am technically speaking still in the same position but it bears absolutely no resemblance to what I was doing when I started. GE Healthcare bought IDX in 2005 and then spun most of IDX back off in 2018 as a freestanding company called "Virence" (surely the worst marketing-designed corporate name in human history) which then combined with the existing athenahealth company in 2019. So, by my count I've had four employers but just the one job.

Today is the 28th anniversary of my starting at IDX Systems Corporation. It was a Monday as well. I am technically speaking still in the same position but it bears absolutely no resemblance to what I was doing when I started. GE Healthcare bought IDX in 2005 and then spun most of IDX back off in 2018 as a freestanding company called "Virence" (surely the worst marketing-designed corporate name in human history) which then combined with the existing athenahealth company in 2019. So, by my count I've had four employers but just the one job.

So I saw an article on Atlas Obscura about a legendary Missouri restaurant and its "guberburgers" -- hamburgers topped with peanut butter. Talk about "bringing back old memories"... I spent eight months in a s___hole El Salvadoran jail between March and November of 2005. They fed us nothing but peanut butter slathered burgers, grilled medium well, on brioche buns. It sounds appealing at first, but after the second week we'd have cheerfully done anything -- anything -- for a salad, or fresh fruit, or some Big K grape soda. The last two months were the worst. I spent those hallucinating conversations with a large, hairy tapir of some kind who kept promising me valuable investment tips but kept on raising the price I'd have to pay to get "the really good stuff". Finally they let me go when the local mayor (this was in Las Vueltas) needed the space to imprison his in-laws after a particularly ugly Carnaval de San Miguel party spun totally out of control. I was sent stumbling out into the alleys outside the prison with only a stick and a used VHS tape of "Air Bud 2: Golden Receiver" and left to fend for myself. When I finally made my way to the American embassy sixty miles away, on foot, I had lost most of my language skills and was only able to say "I want to be a cavalryman, as my father was." TL;dr -- peanut butter on hamburgers sounds appealing at first but can get old really quickly

So I saw an article on Atlas Obscura about a legendary Missouri restaurant and its "guberburgers" -- hamburgers topped with peanut butter. Talk about "bringing back old memories"... I spent eight months in a s___hole El Salvadoran jail between March and November of 2005. They fed us nothing but peanut butter slathered burgers, grilled medium well, on brioche buns. It sounds appealing at first, but after the second week we'd have cheerfully done anything -- anything -- for a salad, or fresh fruit, or some Big K grape soda. The last two months were the worst. I spent those hallucinating conversations with a large, hairy tapir of some kind who kept promising me valuable investment tips but kept on raising the price I'd have to pay to get "the really good stuff". Finally they let me go when the local mayor (this was in Las Vueltas) needed the space to imprison his in-laws after a particularly ugly Carnaval de San Miguel party spun totally out of control. I was sent stumbling out into the alleys outside the prison with only a stick and a used VHS tape of "Air Bud 2: Golden Receiver" and left to fend for myself. When I finally made my way to the American embassy sixty miles away, on foot, I had lost most of my language skills and was only able to say "I want to be a cavalryman, as my father was." TL;dr -- peanut butter on hamburgers sounds appealing at first but can get old really quickly

So I saw an article on Atlas Obscura about a legendary Missouri restaurant and its "guberburgers" -- hamburgers topped with peanut butter. Talk about "bringing back old memories"... I spent eight months in a s___hole El Salvadoran jail between March and November of 2005. They fed us nothing but peanut butter slathered burgers, grilled medium well, on brioche buns. It sounds appealing at first, but after the second week we'd have cheerfully done anything -- anything -- for a salad, or fresh fruit, or some Big K grape soda. The last two months were the worst. I spent those hallucinating conversations with a large, hairy tapir of some kind who kept promising me valuable investment tips but kept on raising the price I'd have to pay to get "the really good stuff". Finally they let me go when the local mayor (this was in Las Vueltas) needed the space to imprison his in-laws after a particularly ugly Carnaval de San Miguel party spun totally out of control. I was sent stumbling out into the alleys outside the prison with only a stick and a used VHS tape of "Air Bud 2: Golden Receiver" and left to fend for myself. When I finally made my way to the American embassy sixty miles away, on foot, I had lost most of my language skills and was only able to say "I want to be a cavalryman, as my father was." TL;dr -- peanut butter on hamburgers sounds appealing at first but can get old really quickly

So I saw an article on Atlas Obscura about a legendary Missouri restaurant and its "guberburgers" -- hamburgers topped with peanut butter. Talk about "bringing back old memories"... I spent eight months in a s___hole El Salvadoran jail between March and November of 2005. They fed us nothing but peanut butter slathered burgers, grilled medium well, on brioche buns. It sounds appealing at first, but after the second week we'd have cheerfully done anything -- anything -- for a salad, or fresh fruit, or some Big K grape soda. The last two months were the worst. I spent those hallucinating conversations with a large, hairy tapir of some kind who kept promising me valuable investment tips but kept on raising the price I'd have to pay to get "the really good stuff". Finally they let me go when the local mayor (this was in Las Vueltas) needed the space to imprison his in-laws after a particularly ugly Carnaval de San Miguel party spun totally out of control. I was sent stumbling out into the alleys outside the prison with only a stick and a used VHS tape of "Air Bud 2: Golden Receiver" and left to fend for myself. When I finally made my way to the American embassy sixty miles away, on foot, I had lost most of my language skills and was only able to say "I want to be a cavalryman, as my father was." TL;dr -- peanut butter on hamburgers sounds appealing at first but can get old really quickly