Mad Max

Some times I feel like Mel Gibson. No, not the contemporary drunk version. The Mad Max Road Warrior version.

Except instead of cruising a hot rod down the remote country roads of Australia, I'm sitting in economy class on an eight hour flight next to a guy with really smelly feet. But that's basically the same, right?

And instead of having epic battles with evil doers like Nightrider (or Naught Ridah, as they say down under) and Toecutter, I'm looking for waste, fraud, and abuse in government agencies. But that's like, totally the same as far as energy and excitement.

And instead of relaxing, after killing some baddies, on an exotic beach, I'm at the Residence Inn with free breakfast and wifi.

OK, so I'm nothing like Mad Max, except that I sympathize with him when he laments that the road is making him crazy and he just wants to get back to his family or he just might lose it.