Jobs Are For Losers!

I almost can�t believe everything that�s happened the last few weeks. Life is boring as all hell for years at a time, and then you're bombarded with everything at once. If I believed in God, I would think it�s a cruel joke or some gross test to determine our snapping points.

When I�m stressed out by things that I can�t control, I tend to curl up into a ball of quivering jello and listen to the uneasy sounds of my bowels bubbling and churning. I get gas, how classy and befitting, right? Unfortunately I don�t get that fun, party game kind of gas that�s accompanied by funny noises you can use to convince the cat that there�s a duck under your chair. I get the grab your stomach and double over in pain kind of gas.

I�ve been doubled over for weeks, but finally today, I�m sitting by the living room window and watching the leaves fall from the trees as I yell, �hey kitty, did you hear that duck? Go get him!�

My dad�s surgery went well, and he�s been quickly recovering. We�ve decided to deal with our problems the way we always have, we�re largely pretending they don�t exist but dealing with tiny snippets of the truth every once in a while. He�s home now with my Mom and life is slowly returning to a version of normalcy that they find comforting. I suppose that�s enough.

After six months of work at my client�s office, I was finally called back to go work with Satan, so I quit. I just couldn�t do it. My client treated me like a king, and when I thought about going back to have Satan scream at me like a dog who just can�t stop himself from eating his master�s favorite slippers, I called him and told him that I�d had enough. I quit. I�d spent three years practicing my 30 minute speech filled with condemnations of his behavior and righteous indignation, but when it came down to it I simply said that I couldn�t stomach the idea of coming back there for another minute. Of course, a few months ago I had spelled out the 30 things I hated most about his company for him and demanded that they be changed. When they weren�t, there really wasn�t much else to say.

My last day there was Monday. Unlike my last day at the client when I was treated to a three hour lunch with the entire staff and given a gift and card and sent off with genuine well wishes, my last day at Satan�s company was uneventful. I said goodbye to the secretaries that I loved so much, wished a few of my coworkers good luck, and left without so much of a nod from Satan or the whore he�s assigned to be my supervisor.

This is my third day at home, and I�m just starting to breathe the sigh of relief that comes with knowing you succeeded in escaping. I�m still looking over my shoulders to make sure they haven�t followed me and are going to drag me back there kicking and screaming, but I�m looking less each day.

This morning I called and accepted a job with another company, this one in New York City. I�m going to be working on Park Avenue! Holy shit, I can�t believe it. It�s just too much! No more commuting in Jersey traffic, no more Satan!! In my interview, I told them all about Satan and how evil he was towards his employees. When they recoiled in terror with sufficient fervor, I knew this was to be my new home. I start in two weeks. I was prepared to work there for free, but get this, they even offered me a hell of a lot more money than I�m making now AND they�re giving me a signing bonus in cash that�s big enough to buy a new car with! I think they actually want ME to work there, and they are not just trying to get another warm body to sit in a cubicle. Amazing.

Well, it�s already past noon, and I�m in need of another nap. As excited as I am about starting a new job, this being unemployed thing is going to be pretty damn hard to beat.