Nose Faucet

AARRGH! I hate having a cold! I hate the first few days like nothing else! Drip drip drip. I am sore and cranky and weak. My last day at my job is tomorrow and I want to call out sick. But that will be total scumbag of me (though the truth). I will, however, go in quite late and leave quite early. I think I'll take myself out for a congratulatory hot toddy in the bar downstairs. J is going to Bal'mor for a conference. Oh well. No one likes to hang out with a drippy nose companion.

Ah, the wonders of Nyquil... starting to work magic sleep tricks on me.. must sign off... zzzzzzz

The Notice.

Yesterday I gave it... the dreaded Notice of Resignation. Oh how I hate making that call, writing that letter! I feel like SUCH a jerk, even when I know (from many a confirmed story) that company A would fire me in a heartbeat if they wanted me gone. It must be the old Irish|catholic guilt kicking in. Those years of exposure rubbed off. There is no fighting it.

Today I have become the classic lazy last days of work employee. Why bother? My last day is next Wednesday (yes, the workaholic in me can't even take a full week before staring my new job with company Z - i took 4 days). Between now and then, methinks I will get a novel to read while sitting at my desk. Truth be told, anything I sell will be money in the bank.. but I only make 1/2 of my money. Company A takes 50% of my cash. And my guilt has just been reduced by the same percentage. Freedom!

Here's to weekends off, to meeting new colleagues, and to cookie hour! Boo to working 9-5, but it beats 10-6 with a stick. Now that the sun stays out until the clocks read almost 7, I just want to be out of work that much sooner.