Home, boy
Home, boy
Everybody needs a home
Home, boy
Home, boy
Everybody needs a home

First of all, contrary to rumours, I'm not moving back East. I just happened to get a job in SF while I was back East. Why, after all, would I go back East? Hell, there's a story in today's Washington Post, the paper of the City I might have moved too, about how drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon is suddenly the rage in D.C. Been there, done that. I'd have to go into seclusion for a couple of years to catch up trend-wise between here and there. Hell, my sister got a Razar Scooter for her birthday last year because Razar Scooter's finally became all the rage in Baltimore last year. I don't want to relive the Razar Scooter years again. Dear God, anything but that.

So how was the trip? Well, besides going back for the holidays and to see the family, I went to try and get a nice, relaxing week in which I could both Get Away From it All and rest up from having way too much All to get away from. So what happened? I got a job offer on Monday, accepted it on Tuesday, wrote the Resignation letter on Friday and spent the rest of the week having the prerequisite angst that one would get if one random resume turns into a brand new job a week after sending it out. Big life changes can be kind of scary when they happen just like that. As for sleep, I took one red-eye flight, a return flight that left at 8:15 in the morning East Coast time, had two two-hour trips back to Carlisle Pa and back, a four-hour drive and a six-hour drive to Soprano-land, and spent three nights sleeping in the same type of bed I had as a kid, two nights on a really crappy fold-out couch, one night on one of those inflatable beds, and one night on the floor because the inflatable bed didn't inflate.

In other words, so much for my nice relaxing trip and Getting Away From it All.

And all I have to look forward to tomorrow is walking in the office and giving them my two-week notice. Followed, of course, by the requisite drama.

Oy.