I'm so slick...

...they should change my middle name to "Astroglide".

(Side note: When I worked for the pharmacy, we used to carry a lube that looked like a big camoflauge dildo. Can't remember the name of it, but that cracked me up every time I saw it.)

Why am I so slick?

Because I just had "the talk" with Bosslady. No, she didn't tell me about the birds & bees and penis-shaped lube, but that we're out of money. I knew that was coming. I was prepared. When she said the accountants (whom I dislike very much anyway, because they're condescending weenies) said to just fire me outright 2 weeks ago, I knew my plan would be perfect.

What was my plan, you ask?

To re-sign with the local temp agencies, make 2-4$/hour more than I do now, on "short term assignments". (And by "short term" I mean temp-to-perm.)I'll give her one night/week, and/or one Saturday to do the parts of my job that can't be done well by volunteers. (And very little of my job cannot be done by volunteers. If they're not computer savvy, it'll be Data entry for me. Woot.) Bonus? Work I do for Bosslady from here on will be on a need-to-know basis with Uncle Sam. If I make less than 600 bucks, he don't need to know. (And trust me, I doubt I'll make more than 600 bucks. Because I have a goal. That goal is to be working somewhere else, with a schedule that doesn't permit much, if any, work with Bosslady.)

And Bosslady? LOVES my plan. Adores my plan. Is absolutely relieved that I have said plan. So we'll work out the details tomorrow, and I'll write up my famous "This is how we do my job" manual. (I think I've done one of those for 3 of the past 5 jobs I've been at.) I'm figuring a week to tie up loose ends, and then... poof!

Life, is damned good.

And Evil says Myaah! To you all. (How the little beastie keeps getting on here, I have no idea. She doesn't strike me as being that nimble.)