64 Days of work left this school year. 100 days until I move to Emporia. The countdown has begun.

To quote one of my coworkers:
"Every time I go to work, a little piece of me dies inside."

I have sort of vowed to live the next four months in a state of poverty for the following reasons:

• I have been reckless enough with my finances for almost the entirety of my adult life that now is certainly the time to be more frugal.
• I have no idea when I will be able to secure employment once I get to Emporia or how much I will be making.
• If I am not living paycheck to paycheck, I will be a lot happier.
• A few cutbacks in spending now = less time being poor in the future.

By the way, I really hate thinking about finances. At least when I am being stupid about them. Gives me a headache.

Avacados are delicious.

To Whom it May Concern:
Despite some rumors to the contrary, probably some accidently self-propagated, I am not quitting my job immediately and returning to Emporia asap. I am, however, planning on moving back to Emporia the last week of May and sharing an apartment with my sister Rachel. I no longer share an apartment with my brother Jarom and am currently taking up residence on my parent's couch. Or to be more precise, the floor next to their couch because their couch freaking blows for sleeping on. No, I am not engaged nor have I come anywhere close to being engaged. At all. I have lost some weight, but not enough to be terribly noticeable or cause for much celebration. Especially celebrations that include lots of cheese dip and Dr. Pepper. I am not in nursing school, although I was considering it at one time. I may or may not be returning to school next fall, depending on how hard I fail in life after abandoning all my principles, real and imagined, to damn myself to a land flowing with prarie dogs and termites. However, the rumor that I use lots of run-on sentences is absolutely true and is being proven to this day.
Ciao,
Roberto