The Final Days Are the Most Difficult

I have three whole days left of work at my current job. Well, three counting today, which means after this weekend, I only have to go to work two more times and this nightmare is over.

So, today, I got one of those “Where’s the XYZ Project?” to which, I’ll be honest that in the last few weeks with all of the different projects thrown at me to complete before I’m “allowed” to quit, it just slipped my mind. It’s not like I haven’t been swamped with everything else (which, sardonically, is the reason I’m quitting in the first place). So, after being shamed into realizing that I haven’t done it, I got one of those passive-aggressive conversations with the boss, where I just looked at her and thought, I really don’t care, so stop bothering me.

That’s kind of how I am right now. I’m trying to produce the things they need before I go, but let’s be honest, I have no incentive to do anything here other than the personal satisfaction of just getting something done. Before I quit, I was ready to leave the next day, which I didn’t do, and instead, I put in a month’s notice, and like I said, there are two full days left before I finally get to leave.

The sad thing is that I liked this place beore all of this happened. I just can’t work with the person who took over. I tried, and let’s just say that some personalities don’t mesh, and I kind of knew that was going to happen when she stepped up from being a colleague and became the supervisor. I would not be very surprised to see the majority of the staff jump ship right after me. I know one is about to leave as well, although I don’t think anyone suspects she’s on the way out either. It will probably be one of those last minute things, something I was trying to avoid on my way out myself.

But it’s so frustrating because I just want to walk out and leave. I know two or three days isn’t that much time, but when you have a discussion about your last day, where I basically said that’s when I clean up everything of mine and sort things out for leaving, being told “You’re still being paid to work, so what are you going to be doing” kind of gives you the thought of “Screw you, I’ll take a sick day then and you can throw my junk into the street.”

But I won’t go there. Instead, I’ll try to get through these last few days and then I’ll start my journey of writing full time.

And starving. Yikes.

duaneThe Final Days Are the Most Difficult

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