Goodbye, Job.

I leave you with something I drew during the last staff meeting out of boredom so devastating that I thought about the utensils that I could stab myself in the eye with as an excuse to leave and also as a cathartic symbol of the pain and grief you caused me. (and how staunchly I will refuse to work with all women EVER AGAIN.)

It's a piece I've entitled:

Things I'd Like to Eat and Drink: A Staff Meeting of Longing.

Fare thee well, Job.

Stay tuned for tomorrow: sleeping away my one day of vacation before throwing a gi-normous house party and convincing a friend with a car to help us to pick up our keg of cider for snake bite blacks.