I Quit

Dear Creditors, Family, Supervisors, Project "Managers," Cats who refuse to get along, idiot Bicyclers who insist upon riding down highways with no shoulders, State Highway employees who can't get roadsigns in place, and especially my Bank--which I just drove more than 50 miles roundtrip in order to make a deposit, despite their promise that I could use a Wells Fargo ATM to make such a transaction:


I quit.


The towel is thrown in. The straw has broken the camel's back. You can take everything and shove it. I'm tired of sounding like a whiny bitch everytime I open my mouth. I want to be happy and carefree, instead of panicked about what crap will next be shoveled onto my already-full plate. I'm packing what I can carry and heading to Mexico. You can find me on a beach somewhere. But please don't. Let me have my illusion that I could actually drop everything and go sell woven straw hats or something.