Keltham is getting this weird feeling like he may, at some future point, predictably first-order update towards wishing he'd started industrializing Golarion slightly sooner, even if it was just by a day, or an hour.
Keltham isn't a perfect Bayesian, but he's a passable one. By dath ilani standards.
He finishes his last two bites of food quickly and says, "So can somebody direct me to, like, office of project management?"