I have decided today February 8th, 2012, after sitting on my ass in front of the computer totally bored out of my mind, that I do not need a boyfriend or a husband, I need a job. I am in love with working, and sorry but I can't do anything about it. Actually I do need to do a specific kind of job, one that pays very poorly and has no health insurance or assurance in any way of success. I am of course speaking of walking down the mythical, restaurant ownership path of life. I miss it, I can't stay away, I want Red Agave back, but not exactly, the glue is wearing off of the lights that Katie and I glued to the ceiling in the bar. So because of this unconventional choice or path, I guess that I have to accept the fact that even with a moderately successful endeavor I will be a pauper in the end. One piece of solace that I can gather from this disturbing realization, is that I will not be sitting on my ass in front of an electrical screen for the next 20 years. So Hallelujah, hip hip horray, says the glutton for punishment, I have formally agreed with myself to get back on the horse...
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