OK,

So when I left off, I was discussing my internal struggle about Guitar Center. On the one hand, Ladywife Sarah and I are broke as a frigging joke and needed all the money we could get our grubby paws on. On the other hand, I was literally about to do a Travis Bickle on the place.

Anywho, on the 22nd of December I was at work and was not digging it. Honestly, I think I was maybe as close to having a nervous breakdown as I have ever been. With every new little annoyance I was finding myself wanting to either burst into tears or have a huge fistfight. And it didn't help that I was scheduled for exactly 1.5 days of Christmas vacation and had to beg like Oliver Twist for even that. I was, how do you say, in a bad way.

And so people, after a couple tearful conversations with coworkers and some serious moral support from my amazing wife, I did my best Tom Cruise from Risky Business impression and said "Fuck it". I walked into the manager's office, turned in my nametag of indentured servitude and walked out a free man.

Best. Decision. Ever.