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Aw, my sympathy. And empathy. And complete commiseration. I think that Tom and my parents' heads are probably going to explode if I complain about my job one more time. I think some job-searching and some pre-celebratory hedonistic raw fish-eating is in order for BOTH of us in the time being. Geisha House? I've got a Visa card and I'm willing to use it.
Hang in there. This job, like this day, like this life, evaporates. We will make of the latter what we can (and I believe that will involve the extracation of self from the former.)
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