misnomer
I QUIT MY JOB TODAY.
Hold on, lemme say it again in your good ear: I QUIT MY JOB TODAY! :D
And it only gets more unusual from there. Early this morning, Jon (I know.) crawled out of his cave of seclusion and emailed me about a few things, including coming back to SA for work. I don't know if he knew I had another offer on the table - but I wouldn't be surprised for a recluse he knows an awful lot - and he said he could guarantee me a job at SA, doing something that didn't involve babysitting or answering phones all day. \o/
This decision might also have been prompted by him needing someone to drink with him at 10AM and I was supposed to be leaving for work. But if that fucker thinks he's backing out now, he's crazy. I put on my best pink dress, went down to IDM and gave them my resignation and nearly danced the entire way home (except for when I stopped at the offie, but technically, still dancing.)
Then Jon ended up outside. my. flat. Totally cunted. Totally cunted. A little before noon. :\ So I brought him in, quickly realized it was a futile endeavor to try and pry the half empty gin bottle from his hands or to sober him up, and resigned myself to watching him...be sad, and get more drunk for an hour. It was like 2005 all over again, I forgot what that felt like. I didn't miss it.
Thankfully a little Dylan on vinyl never fails, and after some convincing, I got him to have a little lie down on my bed and listen to a few tracks. Instant lights out; good to know my nanny skillz haven't withered and died. He looks like he hasn't slept in days, and if it has to be passed out drunk, snoring and drooling on my pillows (D:) then...whatever. He's been in there for a few hours and he's still out. I figured I'd just leave him be and hope he doesn't pull a runner when he wakes up. At the very least, I'm surprised (and glad in a way) that he came over at all. I've been worried about him.
The defender of men, alright. Fine job there.
Hold on, lemme say it again in your good ear: I QUIT MY JOB TODAY! :D
And it only gets more unusual from there. Early this morning, Jon (I know.) crawled out of his cave of seclusion and emailed me about a few things, including coming back to SA for work. I don't know if he knew I had another offer on the table - but I wouldn't be surprised for a recluse he knows an awful lot - and he said he could guarantee me a job at SA, doing something that didn't involve babysitting or answering phones all day. \o/
This decision might also have been prompted by him needing someone to drink with him at 10AM and I was supposed to be leaving for work. But if that fucker thinks he's backing out now, he's crazy. I put on my best pink dress, went down to IDM and gave them my resignation and nearly danced the entire way home (except for when I stopped at the offie, but technically, still dancing.)
Then Jon ended up outside. my. flat. Totally cunted. Totally cunted. A little before noon. :\ So I brought him in, quickly realized it was a futile endeavor to try and pry the half empty gin bottle from his hands or to sober him up, and resigned myself to watching him...be sad, and get more drunk for an hour. It was like 2005 all over again, I forgot what that felt like. I didn't miss it.
Thankfully a little Dylan on vinyl never fails, and after some convincing, I got him to have a little lie down on my bed and listen to a few tracks. Instant lights out; good to know my nanny skillz haven't withered and died. He looks like he hasn't slept in days, and if it has to be passed out drunk, snoring and drooling on my pillows (D:) then...whatever. He's been in there for a few hours and he's still out. I figured I'd just leave him be and hope he doesn't pull a runner when he wakes up. At the very least, I'm surprised (and glad in a way) that he came over at all. I've been worried about him.
The defender of men, alright. Fine job there.