skot AT izzlepfaff DOT com
Tuesday, 16 November
A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Food Bank
So: I put in notice at work, where I have resided and bumbled for the last eleven years. I must note right away that the people I work with--those good folks who have for over a couple decades steadfastly refused to cure cancer out of fear of having to become janitors or depilators or lizard handlers--had nothing to do with the decision. They are all nice people, except for the ethnic ones, whom I fear and avoid.
Truth is, I just burned out. Spend a decade anywhere, doing [job that isn't necessarily your super-dream and I guess that's going to happen. Around six months ago, the Wife was all like "You need to get the fuck out of there, because you're bringing it home." I couldn't disagree. Well, I could, if I felt like being an obstinate asshole, but I didn't, because I was too depressed. So I just sat there like a cornered marmot and nodded my head woefully.
So the decision was made, and I'm out of there as of year's end. ("The decision was made . . . " who doesn't love the passive voice?) Although that's sort of not true: I have enough accumulated vacation time to bail on the Jesusmas-New Year's week, so my last functional office day will be December 23. I'll get paid for all that time to hang out at home and relentlessly yank it at bonkotopia.com! 'Tis the season!
After that, when remorseless January hits . . . well, I don't fucking know at all. Does your lawn need mowing? Leaves raked? Browser configured to the bonkotopia home page? Let me know! I'll probably need the cash.
What I can't help you with is help on the whole cancer thing. You're on your own with that one. Because I'm out.
Note: Comments are closed on old entries.
Congratulations! I envy your exit.
But before you go, could you take a quick look at this mole?
You put in your notice? I am severely disappointed that you did not go out in a blaze of Uzi fire. Or dump a pitcher of urine on your boss's boss.
Put in your notice. Hmmph. Limpdick.
i am so happy for you. the wife is probly much better now. breathe free...
Please write more, figure out a way to write for a living. Get someone to pay you for this. Your writing is too damn good.
I would pay. I figure I must owe you at least a couple thousand by now.
Hang in there, Skot. Your tens of fans are missing your missives, and I for one hope you are well! You well?
Happy last day at work!
Happy last day. Maybe the Bar That Will Not Be Named needs a bouncer?
As one of The Tens, I too encourage you to go out and do some writing. It pays crap, and you'll need some sort of day job (or the continued graces of your long-suffering wife), but you haz the talents. The world should not be deprived of humor just because you've gotten used to living with a roof.
And as another of The Tens, yes, please try to do some writing. You've kept me entertained for quite a while now and I miss your regular posting! Congrats on the "unemployment" scene! So you look at moles? I'll send a photo and you can give me your verdict. Keep writing guy!
Skot! Come out Skot!
You're aware of The Green Hornet, Country Strong, Thor, and (oh my sweet sweet Jesus) Season of the Witch, right? Right?
If a Nic Cage movie cannot pull you out of exile, We Are All Lost.
SKOTT!!! Enuff with the not-writing and making me laugh.
I blame you for Rebecca Black.
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