Me? Eat my words? Ha!

Things at the restaurant from Hell have grown increasingly worse. My manager and I have taken to verbal sparring in front of the customers, who now also receive a healthy dose of my wrath. Life at the gym, however, is dandy. Although I'm bored to tears, I didn't realize the scope and power of this gym until I attended orientation today. And from now on, I am not allowed to call it a gym. It's a Five Star Sports Club.

Anyway. Today, after orientation, I came home briefly to change into my "hire-me" outfit before I drove all over begging for a job. However...that lovely green light on my home phone indicated a voice mail. I figured it was from my parents or someone from my acting class. I did not imagine it would be from a restaurant manager in West Hollywood offering me a job.

So skip to the bliss! I accepted the WeHo offer offer immediately, drove to Encino, picked up my last paycheck and said those two erection-inducing words my heart has yearned to hear: "I QUIT." Oh rapture. Oh valhalla. I am no longer a glorified, underpaid bus boy. Life will be good for at least the next fifteen minutes.

Therefore, this blogger's mood is happy. For now. But I promise many more fits of rage and cussing in the near future.

Next on "Reach for the stars, step on the masses":
- The scoop on my new job
- Find out why I'll be moving to Studio City in June (and with whom!)
- I prepare to return briefly to the land of my birth to get drunk and see my nephew (respectively)