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.