California is Nice

I made it out of NYC. Barely.

Due primarily to my own procrastination (but also to everyone's need to "get one more beer before [I] go"), I was packing, shipping and cleaning right up until 4pm the day of my 6pm flight. Factor in USPS stupidity ("You can't mail that box. It has a corporate label on it." Oh noes!) and rush hour traffic and I ended up making my plane by about 30 seconds.

It's great being the last one on the plane. Everyone is seated with their bags stowed and nothing to do but stare at you as you walk down the aisle, sweating profusely from stress and the jog from security. "Hey everybody! It's me, the asshole that's had you sitting here for the last 10 minutes! How are ya feeling this afternoon?"

Whoa. Tough crowd.

On the plus side, California is nice and not having a job in California is fucking fantastic. I'm still working on those previously alluded to details, but preliminary results seem to indicate that quitting my job and fleeing NYC was the best idea I've had in years.