Unsatisfied...

Ok, so it is no secret that I am totally unfulfilled by my work these days.

And after 8 years of VERY loyal service, my mom's boss' wife (please note, not my mom's boss, and not someone who has anything to so with the business at all, merely his idiot wife...) accused her of stealing... (Which is laughably ludicrous.) So needless to say, she's a little disillusioned with her current employer.

Basically, it might be a recession, but we're both looking to move on, and hopefully move on in a hurry.

When my landlord called to ask if I was giving my 60 day notice because my lease will be up soon, I told her no, but that I was going to be going month to month.

Basically I'm going to be packing up again soon. (And unlike previous moves, I'm ok with this one, because despite the fact that I utterly loathe and detest my job, I will voluntarily leave my current job with an invaluable letter of recommendation when I go applying to grad school in the market I'm planning to move near for the sole purpose of educational and career advancement.)

In the same vein, I have submitted a sterling resume to a law firm in that area that is actively hiring left and right. (I filled that gap in my work history with some freelance bartending and event planning which I made look FAAAAAAAR more productive and important than it actually was, as you all know.) (Kirsten, who works there, actually assisted me in hand crafting the resume to suit their liking.) And despite the fact that I was told that it might take them a little while to get back to me, I compulsively check my e-mail in the hopes of making a quick exit.

In other, somewhat unrelated news, I have booked the travel for my Vegas trip, and I could not be more excited about it. Let's keep in mind that my cousin and his ridiculous lifestyle are handling pretty much everything financial on this trip aside from the airfare. If I've got to spend the whole trip boozing it up and lounging on my ass next to the pool, then so be it, because when I found out that we are staying as VIPs at the Wynn, I about soiled myself. (And if you took the time to click that link, yes, that is a Rolls Royce in the front page picture.) And yes, I am aware that when we arrive it is entirely likely that we will walk into the lobby and they will turn me around and escort me out saying that they can literally smell the poor on me. But they will be forced to eat a little crow, because ... well ... Because I can tell them that not only am I a guest, I am a VIP. (Mind you that my dear cousin informed me that during his last trip to Vegas he won more than I make in a year, but since he's the one making the reservations, and he's booking for all of us, they will have to love me by proxy.)

The trip is coming up in less than three weeks, so really, I'm almost buzzing with excitement, and I will have no qualms about telling anyone who will listen to my sorry ass just how jazzed I am.

I realize that most will probably miss this post because I am posting picture of my recent drunken weekend immediately above, but what the hell... you deserve the full story if you go so far as to check the title of the post below the pictures to ensure it's something you've actually read.

I love you for reading and essentially validating my existence at this point.