I quit.

My job, that is. I quit my job. Again. This time, for the perils of an ad agency and all the money and glory that comes when you watch too many episodes of Mad Men and the magazine publishers don’t—they really don’t—know how to paying a living wage. I’d like some Ikea furniture by the end of the year. I’d like to afford my drinking habit. Six months at a job isn’t so long, is it? It felt like ages. It felt bad. I’m in the business of ripping off band-aids. I’m retired from babysitting.

One response to “I quit.

  1. Good luck on the Advertising world! Go and kick ass like a barracuda in between sharks ;)

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