…I’d be dancing the jig.

Last day of work (at the full-time job) today until January 5. That’s 18 days off, the last 12 of which will be completely off with no working ANYWHERE.

My frickin’ feet are screaming these days. The arches, especially. Spending 6 hours a night walking on concrete floors, without being able to sit down except for a 15 minute break every two hours — well, it takes a toll. My feet hurt today and they don’t usually hurt during the day, just later when I’ve been on them a lot. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the night if they hurt already. But, part of being an adult is knowing that we have to do what we have to do, right?

An 18-wheeler backed into me night before last — sorta nudged me a bit but just hard enough that he punched a hole in the plastic bumper on my RAV4. And then he left without nary a word. I didn’t get numbers or license plates or anything on him — so I’ll be eating the cost of the repairs on my own ($500 insurance deductible).

I am, literally, counting the minutes.