Handing in my notice.

Joining in the Spring of discontent here in the United Kingdom of Half-Hearted Protest, I decided to hand in my notice from my exceptionally inane, yet conscience reinforcing charity job. (I basically save the world one spreadsheet at a time.) In hindsight, this was a good decision for my general sanity, but a bad decision for my finances which are experiencing Black Groundhog Day, economic woe en perpétuité.

This was a liberating moment, though something I slightly forced myself into by telling everyone around me as often as I could that I was definitely leaving. My moment has been slightly nulled by the fact that people have congratulated my decision. Either they agree that I have become a guinea pig in a box, thrown the occasional knaw stick to keep me quiet, (or quieter as guinea pigs don't really make much noise), or more cunningly, they are taking revenge on me for my reckless abandonment of charity, the dying children and the survival of all mankind, with their clever reverse psychology.

Regardless of whether my decision was right or wrong, I now have to job-hunt. I found some good jobs on useful jobsites. Then I found some I could apply to. Then I decided to write a blog.