Like a rat from a sinking ship

Yes, as the title implies, I'm getting out of Dodge. Hitting the road. Burning rubber. Making like a tree, and getting out of here. And other really bad cliches. I've finally been hired away from my current position where I like the people here but cannot stand the people I support. I know very little about the new job other than it will still be technical support. All I know is they're going to pay me much more money for doing something simliar to what I'm doing now. I think I can live with that. Time will tell.

It also looks like I'll be free of the insanity that is my mother and my sisters and relocating to a "histrionic-free zone." I'll let you know when the move goes down.

Down 39.2 pounds officially. Proof that you can eat what you want and exercise only occasionally and still lose weight well. You just have to stop being a fucking pig. So put down that Twinkie, fatso, and don't even think of finishing the box in one sitting!

I get to strip a floor next week, lay down tile then paint the walls. Time to feel like Ty Pennington, without being attractive and homosexual. One man's opinion, Ty. You try to sue me, I'll get all constitutional on your ass, you woodmonkey.

Woodmonkey refers to his profession, not his choice of romantic partners. Okay, look, dude's probably a nice guy and all, but I think he's a gay carpenter. Why else would he be on home improvement "reality shows" and not trying to build cool stuff?

Just postulating, ladies. Enough of the backlash.

Seriously, you can stop now.

You can stop reading also. Linux entry tomorrow (I will stop putting this off, I swear). Gotta vote for schoolboard, get a new bad (for two measly weeks) and give blood tomorrow. And in six minutes, I get to leave here for one of the last times.

No sadness, as my fat ass is quite happy about that.