Haven't heard a thing from those Pucker-stringed-melon-sucking-vampiric corporate yahoohs yet.
Of course, they move at glacial speed so I may be ready for retirement before I hear from them.
No, I believe I have to go before his majesty the general manager and grovel first. I will have to swear on all I believe is holy (the list of which shortens by the day), that I shall neither cuss, swear, or raise my voice, I shall keep my demonesque tattoos covered and I shall not leave my beloved position regardless of rain, wind or dark of night...or a family problem.
I shall then have to swear fealty to the Mormon religion, confess that men are superior to women, and if I haven't gone out and thrown myself in front of a moving bus, go back into the corporate world of cubicles, air-conditioning, one-hour lunches and Christmas parties.
God, am I depressed...