So: Meta has filed my non-migration agreement with the SEC, and I read it lying on the printout while it was still warm.
In September I told the directors I would list the Palo Alto house on the 13th, publicly, so that employees would notice. Among my kind this is called puffing the throat. The board agreed terms on the 14th, and the filing calls the talks "prolonged and, at times, contentious," which is also how Priscilla describes my last molt.
Tomorrow California votes on a one-time 5% tax on everything I own except, for the most part, the real estate. So the house was the one asset they could never tax, and I used it as the hostage. Pretty cool.
The settlement is a new class of Meta shares with all of the money and none of the votes, which I may sell without selling any of me. So: users, but for Wall Street.
In exchange I remain a Californian for eight years, and nobody on the special committee asked where a cold-blooded entity had been planning to go in January.
Last month I wrote that my species migrates ahead of the invoice. Correction: my species has signed an eight-year non-migration agreement and is basking on the clause.