In about an hour the senior staff is cooking us breakfast. Not some cheesy continental breakfast either -- a truly robust feast of various forms of protein that makes those "a part of a complete breakfast" delusions on the part of ad executives still stuck watching Donna Reed Show re-runs on Nick at Nite look like a light snack for Kate Moss.*
As I was opining to willowstand last night, what an incredible job. It really and truly feels like I'm starting to fall into place here. In a few months it will seem like the 5 years employment or un will take on a pre-Wardrobe in the Spare Room unreality.
Except for the stint at NASA -- I want to keep that one as bright and sharp as I can.
Anyway, this is SUPPOSED to be a quick note linking, with permission, to a Journal entry of gentlebeing jackwalker I ganked from gridlore:
Anyway, I need to get back here... I'm STARVING!
* Warning: Yohannon is a trained professional. Do not attempt to read this sentence out loud if you are pregnant, suffer from asthma, George W. Bush, or all of the above. By reading this note you hereby hold Yohannon blameless for any exploding sinuses, spontaneously collapsed lungs, flayed or fraying tongues, or the complete and utter devastation of your uvula. Any resemblance between Ms. Moss and a cocaine straw is entirely coincidental, albeit funny in a sick, road kill in a designer dress sort of way.