Friday, July 22, 2005

Bullet Bitten.

"I'm out, bitches!"

OK, so I didn't really say that, but I did just quit my job. I feel great. I feel like a kid again, instead of the crotchety 80-year-old spinster bitch I've been feeling like for the past four or five months. I feel like I should be popping the cork on a bottle of champainge right now. I'll settle for screwing the cap off a bottle of Bud, though.

Oh, and I'm really relishing this newly discovered ability to make grown men cry.