A Sunny Week in San Francisco

My week was unusual in two ways. 1) I didn't work. All week! 2) It's warm and sunny in San Francisco this week.

I spent the week exercising outside, having lunch at the park with a new friend (got sunburned, which I'm mad at myself about, more about the strange shape of the burn from the sundress I was wearing than the fact that I'm burned and therefore speeding the process of premature skin aging), shopping for things to wear to my new job, making small home improvements, and going to the beach to read a novel. Jeez, life is so cushy when you're on vacation. Oh, I did make attempts to get a marketing reseach gig this week, but I disqualified myself when I stupidly said I don't have a GPS device in my car.

It's remarkable how quickly one can forget all about a job once you leave it. You can kind of forget it when you're on vacation, but you REALLY forget it fast when you leave it for good! Even just a few days later, you can think idly about two or three people, and even if it's the two or three most awful people there, who made your work life hell and routinely made your stomach hurt and your skin itch, it all just feels like the fuzzy memory of a vague dream or a movie you watched many years ago when you were taking cold medicine. That's what happened to me this week, and good riddance to it all.


Now it's Sunday night and I'm scared about starting a new job tomorrow. Bleh!