I should have changed that stupid lock.

I should have changed that stupid lock.

I'm back. Dudes, you should make haste to forgive me. Here's why: a bulleted list.

I quit my job.

Do you know what a pound of gummy bears looks like? Make a circle with an approximate diameter of 4 inches. Hold it up to your belly. Imagine that your belly is full of that much sugary goodness. Don't try to run.

Speaking of "don't try to run," I've officially postponed training for a marathon until later in the spring/early summer. We currently have two hike teams going, and are logging 30 miles on foot a weekend. I don't have time to squeeze in any weekend long runs, even if I could muster up the energy.

We've done fuck all on our house lately. Big household news includes things like, hey, we vacuumed! Hey, we mowed the lawn! Hey, it's trash day! Hence the lackluster house blog performance.

Erik got a new job, but not until three days after I gave notice. Since November, our plan was that I would quit as soon as Erik got a more permanent job. Finally, we just decided to let go. God was just waiting for us to do the faith thing, I guess.

We got an internet quota at work. NOTE: THIS IS NOT WHY I QUIT, contrary to what you all think of me. Mostly because the quota is completely useless. We have time limits on only the most specific things, pretty much limited to web mail, and are completely restricted from ridiculous items such as flickr and the "best of" section on craigslist. I can piss away the entire day on wikipedia or blogger, however. IT guys, if you're reading this, you ought to change that. Please wait 3 weeks, though.

I QUIT MY JOB.

No, I don't have anything else lined up. Yet. That's actually part of my evil scheme. I cannot describe how good it feels when people ask, "Where are you going?" and I just sort of shrug. A shrug? says a thousand words.

I got stung by a bee on the top of a mountain yesterday. Turns out I'm not allergic to bee stings, so I didn't die. The bee, it sacrificed itself all for naught.

Speaking of, a quick Cumbrian Dialect lesson: "naught" is pronounced "now't." And when an old friend bumps into you in the street and asks you what you are doing, you just say: "now't much." Don't even use your tongue on the 't at the end. Swallow it. Erik's mother, before she met me, alluded to Erik that she was nervous to share a meal with me since I'm English and therefore are prim and proper with excellent manners. Poor misguided woman. I am from West Cumbria. How much primness is in me? That's right: Naught.

Thanks for taking me back, sweet readers. It's been a little treacherous these last few weeks what with all the work badness and quittingness. More Julia stories soon.