I was all set to go dancing tonight which I love and which I will not be able to do for the rest of the summer, and even though I was exhausted to the point of barely standing up, I put on my dress and went forth for a salad (light enough to not get naseous while being swung.) While eating alone, I was reading (of course) and fireworks started going off in my head and I just sat there neglecting my salad writing furiously, acting upon some serious revelations:
1. I have to quit my job. It is not worthy of me and I don't deserve to so belittle myself.
2. I have to do it soon. Like in the next year.
3. It's Sharon's fault for giving me the book.
4. It is going to be hard for me to find another job since I will not be grateful to be employed; I will be looking for something worthy of my talents.
5. It is going to be next to impossible. Bring it on!
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