Dear Internet

I have a job.

A real job.

For serious, it's not pretend. An organization is actually going to pay me money to do stuff for them. Sure, it's not much money, but, let's be honest, I kick so much ass that it is only a matter of time before they give me a raise.

Even though I have kind of been working for/with them for a year now (only for free), I am nervous about being able to do the job I have been hired for. Don't get me wrong, I am entirely capable of doing the job. I can do that job with my eyes closed. That being said, I am still nervous.

Did I mention that I get my own office? Also, another important thing (to me at least) is that there is a single-toilet bathroom that is located far enough away from the other offices (there are only three on the floor) that I can do my business (my pooping business, which I am not yet paid for) in without fear of anyone hearing anything unbecoming. Believe it or not, this was a factor in accepting the position.

Life is Good

I am unemployed.

I am living in my parents' basement.

I have not had sex with any regularity in... too long.

And I am ridiculously happy.

Do I wish I had a job? Yes, I do. Do I wish I lived on my own? You have no idea how much, Internet. Yet, I am filled with this inexplicable euphoria and general sense of well-being.

Where did it come from? I do not know, but I hope that it is here to stay. I may owe various financial institutions upwards of $10,000 and not know how I am going to make my next car payment, but I am surprisingly care free.

I have done many things in the last several months, Internet. I went to Florida for a week. I went to Ottawa for a week. I lost thirty pounds. I switched my dog's dog food. I was offered an internship. I turned down an internship. I interviewed for a job I 75% wanted. I was turned down for a job I 75% wanted. I made cupcakes. I made chili. I brushed my teeth. And I also took some naps.

I like to think I have been fairly productive.