Twelve hours from now, I will know whether or not I will still have a job with my current employer. Whatever the outcome, I remain apathetic.
In the meantime, life is good: riffs on vinyl via headphones, beers with Ashley, John Thomason's Fix Bayonets!, a fresh paycheck, and a paying proofreading gig courtesy of Len Bracken. Fuck some goddamned job; I've got what matters.
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