I'm giving notice

Last night was kind of wild. I got a little drunk. I talked with @marak on the phone, and watched Game of Thrones. And I kept saying 'there must be some kind of way out of here.'

I can't do anymore. I can't work in a restaurant to pay the 799 rent at a weekly hotel. I have to break the cycle, it's not worth it anymore. It used to be worth it. We made 9,000 dollars and moved to Mexico to work on this project two years ago. Now I'm working in the same restaurant, but all of the servers have become super soldiers. Everyone shows up for their shift. Everyone does everything right. It doesn't matter how much of a dick the customers are to us, we're invincible. What has happened? Why is the last economy in America a fucking restaurant, supported by a base, supported by the people who work for Obamacare?

And then it all clicked for me. I understand now why Jeff kept saying 'What are you going to do with your lives?' he is right. We don't belong here. I'm too much of a weirdo to live in this town. I need to go where people are weird, where the ground is weird. The weirdest place in the world.

I've been throwing around a lot of ideas, but I know the only one true path. I need to go to Yerba Buena park in San Francisco, and end the cycle. We need to go where @gb and I met and declare independence.

So we're giving notice, today. G's not getting a job at another restaurant.

What are we going to do in California? Finish #faceism for good.