I gave notice at my day job on Monday, before I knew I hadn't sewn up the other part time job at the mall. It turns out they're not sure they can afford me.

Sigh.

But if you believe what happens is meant, then that means...I'm not sure what. But it must be good, right? At any rate, I only have two more days this week, and five next week, to make a difference there before I leave.

I'm praying that I do end up making a difference. The accounts I had always get the new people - no one has been permanently assigned to them, so whoever waltzes in for three, four or five months gets them - and when they waltz out (like I'm going to), then they go dormant, handed to others who are already overworked, and not cared for. That's the only thing that's causing me major guilt.

But once I'm working part time and writing full time (rather than the other way around), I'm sure my guilt will ease.

Tired now...peace out, people.