I love the people I meet at my job.
I'm starting to hate the job. Oh, yeah, after six months, I'm ready to chuck it.
Pain has never really been a good enough reason to stop doing something. At least, that's how I was raised. I'm rethinking that little way of living. I'm just sore all the time. Oh, I have some new muscles and once again fantastic legs, but who cares if all I want to do when I get home is flop on the floor and die? At least it's not back pain. Gawd I feel for all the people who suffer that every waking moment. No, it's just getting-old pain. I joke that I need a cane in the morning. Not funny, because I can barely move sometimes, especially after the Siskiyou route.
I need a better excuse to unload the job. Perhaps I should do something horrendous and get myself fired. That would suck, though.