On Second Thought...

I guess I didn't quit my job after all, cause here I am sitting at my desk staring at the clock. I didn't sleep last night, too stressed out over the impending confrontation w/ my boss. Of course, said confrontation turned out to be wildly anticlimactic, though possibly only due to the fact that she took pity on me and my pathetic Philadelphia Phillies t-shirt. I was going to write up a long winded description of the entire imbroglio, but even I'm bored w/ it already. Suffice to say that if you've ever considered standing up in the middle of a meeting, tipping over your chair, telling your boss to do the work himself, and walking out the door....well, I'm here to tell you that this is wildly exhilarating and life affirming and amazing for exactly 5 minutes. Then you have to call your dad from the park across the street and ask him what the hell you're supposed to do now. Not fun.

Of course, the only thing to do was get plastered. I made sure to call a former employee of my company and hit happy hour on the dot at 4. 8 hours of drunken bitching later, and I felt slightly better about myself. Then again, I'm still a bit mortified over being the guy who arrived at the bar at 3:45 and stared helplessly through the security gate until the barmaid took pity and opened up shop. Not my finest moment, I admit.

Well, I suppose all that's left to say is that I've still got my crappy job, it's disgustingly hot out, and I'm about to head down to NJ for the weekend and help my dad remove a fence from the backyard. Wait, did I really just say that?