Today is The Magic Day. The day that I have had circled on my calendar since my very first day of work at HellJob, which began on this date one year ago. It's hard to believe that it's been a year --in that it feels more like five. I'm sure it feels the same way to all of you who have put up with my incessant complaining.
In the early hours of November 14, 2005, when I circled November 14, 2006, I already knew that HellJob was going to be significantly worse than anticipated. Regardless, I told myself I'd stick it out for (the resume padding standard one) year, all for the sake of buying my first house. As you may recall, I made it to 277 days before declaring defeat and flying the proverbial coup.
I did make a good friend out of the whole ordeal, so, much like college, it was not entirely a waste of time.
Now, here we are, one year later, and The Magic Day has arrived. Ahhhh! The day that I dreamed of for each excruciating minute of HellJob is here. I pictured confetti and balloons sailing down from the rafters, party favor adorned coworkers parading around with cupcakes while the CircusPeanut was strapped to her chair with an apple jammed and duct taped in her mouth (Ohhh yeah, I made constructive use of my mania while trapped at HellJob). While none of this can come to pass due to my hasty HellJob retreat, I was still able to buy the "house" on my self-imposed schedule. In fact, this very afternoon I am off to meet with my contractors "freend who gecht veddy gud price" and pick out granite for my new kitchen!
*insert virtual confetti and balloons*
The complaint part (oh come now, you so knew it was coming):
The fire in my throat is making me feel quite dragonly.
*BLASTS FIRE FROM THROAT IN YOUR GENERAL DIRECTION*.
See? Yeah, it's pretty neat. Great for char-broiling my enemies. Not so good when it's sleepy sleepy time, however. The flame burns brightly with each breath regardless of the amount of chloroseptic applied. It laughs uproariously in the face of Quil (both Night and Day) and inspires workplace convulsions that are not so becoming of an aspiring professional.
My medicine-head has, however, provided me with some powerful insight. For example, I've discovered that contrary to popular conception, two wrongs can make a right. While this is no small revelation, it might be just the beginning. Currently, I am contemplating whether or not three wrongs might in fact make a right as well. I'm speaking specifically about the phonecall I received at 7:42 this morning and the return call to said party that I plan on making at 11:42 this evening. Oh, did my rude and untimely return call wake your kids and disturb your much-needed slumber? So sorry. How rude of me. Hey, have you seen my new char-broiler?
*BLASTS FIRE THROUGH PHONE*