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9:58 p.m. - 2002-12-16 I've been on my feet for eight hours straight at work. I'm also sick to death of this job. I have this feeling in my gut that I'm going to be there forever, and as easy as it is, I want out. But I don't want to leave just yet. When I got the job, I promised myself no more than two years. It will be four in April. I'm very happy, very tired, and very grateful to have an okay job, but... I dunno. I just want something more. I guess I can't complain, because everything's actually going good for me at the moment. Knock on wood. 
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