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desperanceApparently, I don't want to work any more today.
I draw this conclusion from the, um, 94 words I've written in the last who-knows-how-long. I would say "fair enough", but that it is blatantly unfair; but then, as Jay has been saying today, fairness was never in the contract.
Anyway. I quit. My official excuse is an officially scary form from US immigration, that I have to print and sign. *is scared*
(They have rather cutely broken my city down to "New Castle on Tyne". I am not going to correct them. What's to correct? There's nothing wrong there. Space is not at a premium.)
I draw this conclusion from the, um, 94 words I've written in the last who-knows-how-long. I would say "fair enough", but that it is blatantly unfair; but then, as Jay has been saying today, fairness was never in the contract.
Anyway. I quit. My official excuse is an officially scary form from US immigration, that I have to print and sign. *is scared*
(They have rather cutely broken my city down to "New Castle on Tyne". I am not going to correct them. What's to correct? There's nothing wrong there. Space is not at a premium.)