Did I tell you about my plan to get out next summer? I probably didn't tell anybody except my therapist and my cat or something, so of course you don't know. Thing is, I hate very nearly every single day here, just find it grinding and grating and disappointing -- in myself and the management and the behavior of customers -- and the idea of getting out is seriously the most exciting thing going on in my head for possibly several years. So. August 2011, get used to the sight'a my backside, or a cloud of dust, or an empty porch swing wheeling forlornly on the wraparound, because homegirl is outta here. Only ten months left. Ugh.

Man I hope no one actually reads this blog.