On the Prowl . . .

. . . for employment, that is. I quit my crap job last week, which was a long time coming but no less problematic. I hadn't been happy there for a long time, and when my boss got it in his head to yell at me (long story) I decided I'd had it. I yelled back and, um, told him a few things. Things I might have been thinking for a while. I only really called him the one name, though. Marvel at my superhuman restraint.

I packed up and asked the office manager for my last paycheck. She typed it up, put her thumb and little finger up to her face and mouthed "I'll call you later." We had a bitchfest.

So, this is scary, but I've been sort of halfheartedly looking for a new job for a while, and this is going to force me to find one. Preferably one that will not kill my soul and will involve interaction with more than two other humans on a daily basis.