Earlier this week, I was in Atlanta for Pittcon.  It's the largest conference for Analytical Chemistry in the US and although attendance isn't what it once was, its a big deal for many companies, mine included.

As I was speaking with punters at my company booth on Monday afternoon, I noticed my voice getting a bit rough.  By the time I got back to the hotel that evening, I didn't have anything above a whisper.  Tuesday, nothing.  Wednesday even less.  Either someone slipped something in my coffee, or my voice self-ejected and is wandering around the Georgia World Congress Center trying to find a new home.  I hope it isn't in that cute girl across the aisle from our booth.  I don't think it would suit her well.

I'm not-so-secretly hoping that when I find my voice again, that it would be a mean Tom Waits gravel growl.  Today, I tried speaking in a normal volume and it is almost there.  I could almost get out "The Piano Has Been Drinking."  I'm afraid that it will be the sort of temporary thing that doesn't last long enough to be useful.

If anyone in the metro Atlanta area sees a voice wandering around, picking up loose change and begging for some bourbon, tell it to turn it's arse north and get home. It is probably better that I don't try to sing, but I've got a business to run here and it's tough without use of the phone.