Tuesday, October 25, 2011

And now a word from our host...

So, most of my readership is new (helllloooo Subrealism fans) or nonexistant.

But, I have decided, after several months of consideration and an unreasonable amount of whisky, to drive four hours to see my boss tomorrow and resign my position, striking out on my own.

So I guess what I'm saying, is: pray for me, wish me well, curse me, or hope I fail, but at least throw some psychic energy, or cold hard logic (whatever floats your boat) at it. I want to go out with a bang, not a whimper.

This is the last I'll mention it, so anyway. There you go.


  1. You've got clients lined up to sign on the line that is dotted the very instant you hang your own shingle?

    If not, then don't take that drive. Hard-won logic of man's game personal experience writing here - still in the process of recovering from taking that drive...,

  2. I'm tempted to tell you to follow the man of the crags' advice. On the other, as an adventurous type, I always say "Take the risk". But then, I've always thrown myself bodily into shit, and worried about the broken bone consequences in that millisecond right before I say "oh shit".

    In short, since life is gonna beat the shit out of anyway, might as well at least throw a punch now and then.

  3. It's done. Got a letter of recommendation, an offer to return at any time, and permission to start pillaging the village. All in all a success. Now the hard part.