You'll have to forgive my previous entry- I can be a real whiny motherfucker when I'm sick and miserable. Happily, Rx drugs are wonderful thing, and I'm starting to feel better. If my recovery stays on this pace, I'll have no problem going to work tomorrow night.
In fact, it'll be even cooler because there are new kids there and since my illness, my voice changed. You ever have that happen, like after you have a sore throat, you feel ok, but your voice sounds like Barry White and Tom Waits fucked and the lovechild was your voice? You know, the Satan voice. You can answer the phone and freak people out:
(phone rings) "Is Bob there?"
(you) "Bob's gone away for a while friend."
(caller, muffled, as though talking to someone else) "Holy Shit! I just called Bob and someone killed him! It sounds like a real motherfucker too!"
(you) "I can still hear you."
(caller) "Oh fuck!"
(you) "you're next."
I love that voice. And for maybe a day or so, I've got it. Unfortunately I also have a cough to match end-stage emphysema. Blech.
Well in the middle of being half-awake, sick, and feeling damn sorry for myself, I got a phone call and it was good news. I'm not going to talk about it because when I do that, I always jinx things and I can't afford to do that this time around. But let's just say that I'm realistically hopeful.
My sister is to come home sometime today/ tonight. It'll be nice to see her, and hopefully I can get her to help me out with some stuff. I really don't want to try mowing the lawn with my allergies acting up, but it does need it. And if she's willing to get my parents from the airport on the 5th, that'd help me enormously. She's a good kid, though at least as stubborn and spoiled as me. Our childhood arguments were epic. She once stabbed me with a fork, and I still bear a scar. I love her very much.
Tomorrow night's the last work night. I'm walking in on not caring, and three new kids with only 2 discharged. So I think we're at 17. One of the new ones is supposedly a master kleptomaniac. So I guess my stuff gets locked in the office. But I'm kind of looking forward to being done and kind of not. I'm gonna miss some of the people, and a non-judgemental smoking environment, but hey, I've been meaning to quit anyhow. And the sickness has certainly helped that - I haven't smoked in a couple days now, and have no immediate plans to restart. But work will be the test of that. At some point I have to talk to my boss and do the exit-interview thing. This is where I tell him that he needs to fire Sgt. Fuckhead and Lt. Lazy and stop jerking around. It probably won't get through to him, but it's worth a shot. I like my boss, he's a good man, and does his job pretty well, but if you don't agree with him and he knows it, he's not great about dealing with that. Since I'm leaving, I am in the unique position to offer unbiased criticism, and hopefully he'll recognize that I have no ulterior motive, only the true betterment of the workplace in mind when I talk to him. But I do still need a letter of recommendation from him, so I don't want to start a fight.
I've been putting off packing for a long time, and I still am. I shouldn't let myself coddle myself into thinking that this will be just like moving in and out of college, because it won't. I've got lots more stuff to go through, and lots more stuff to think about. But I still think if I allow myself a week instead of a day, I'll be alright. (crosses fingers)
But yeah once work is over with ( a little less than 48 hours from now) and I see all the folks that are going to be visiting in the next 2 weeks, then I've got hardcore packing to do, a staff going away party for me, and then I'm packing up and going. I need to call Nate now that he should be back stateside and see what's up with him. I'm so fucking pumped to be out there and meet some of you in the pierced, inked, and scarred flesh. I'll try not to be too much of a disappointment. But at least for now, my voice is cool.
In fact, it'll be even cooler because there are new kids there and since my illness, my voice changed. You ever have that happen, like after you have a sore throat, you feel ok, but your voice sounds like Barry White and Tom Waits fucked and the lovechild was your voice? You know, the Satan voice. You can answer the phone and freak people out:
(phone rings) "Is Bob there?"
(you) "Bob's gone away for a while friend."
(caller, muffled, as though talking to someone else) "Holy Shit! I just called Bob and someone killed him! It sounds like a real motherfucker too!"
(you) "I can still hear you."
(caller) "Oh fuck!"
(you) "you're next."
I love that voice. And for maybe a day or so, I've got it. Unfortunately I also have a cough to match end-stage emphysema. Blech.
Well in the middle of being half-awake, sick, and feeling damn sorry for myself, I got a phone call and it was good news. I'm not going to talk about it because when I do that, I always jinx things and I can't afford to do that this time around. But let's just say that I'm realistically hopeful.
My sister is to come home sometime today/ tonight. It'll be nice to see her, and hopefully I can get her to help me out with some stuff. I really don't want to try mowing the lawn with my allergies acting up, but it does need it. And if she's willing to get my parents from the airport on the 5th, that'd help me enormously. She's a good kid, though at least as stubborn and spoiled as me. Our childhood arguments were epic. She once stabbed me with a fork, and I still bear a scar. I love her very much.
Tomorrow night's the last work night. I'm walking in on not caring, and three new kids with only 2 discharged. So I think we're at 17. One of the new ones is supposedly a master kleptomaniac. So I guess my stuff gets locked in the office. But I'm kind of looking forward to being done and kind of not. I'm gonna miss some of the people, and a non-judgemental smoking environment, but hey, I've been meaning to quit anyhow. And the sickness has certainly helped that - I haven't smoked in a couple days now, and have no immediate plans to restart. But work will be the test of that. At some point I have to talk to my boss and do the exit-interview thing. This is where I tell him that he needs to fire Sgt. Fuckhead and Lt. Lazy and stop jerking around. It probably won't get through to him, but it's worth a shot. I like my boss, he's a good man, and does his job pretty well, but if you don't agree with him and he knows it, he's not great about dealing with that. Since I'm leaving, I am in the unique position to offer unbiased criticism, and hopefully he'll recognize that I have no ulterior motive, only the true betterment of the workplace in mind when I talk to him. But I do still need a letter of recommendation from him, so I don't want to start a fight.
I've been putting off packing for a long time, and I still am. I shouldn't let myself coddle myself into thinking that this will be just like moving in and out of college, because it won't. I've got lots more stuff to go through, and lots more stuff to think about. But I still think if I allow myself a week instead of a day, I'll be alright. (crosses fingers)
But yeah once work is over with ( a little less than 48 hours from now) and I see all the folks that are going to be visiting in the next 2 weeks, then I've got hardcore packing to do, a staff going away party for me, and then I'm packing up and going. I need to call Nate now that he should be back stateside and see what's up with him. I'm so fucking pumped to be out there and meet some of you in the pierced, inked, and scarred flesh. I'll try not to be too much of a disappointment. But at least for now, my voice is cool.
I'm counting the days until you arrive. Sounds like you've got your transition pretty well laid out.
Good luck with the exit interview. I remember mine from November - ah unemployment.... I dressed in full antiquities goth regalia, pale/black make-up and all. I scared the shit out of my 'supervisor,' but the HR woman doing the interview was pretty cool with it. I love being me.