So, once I confirmed the job offer from the employer that shall remain nameless, I turned in my two weeks notice to my scatter-brained boss. This was about a week and a half ago, and I've basically been running out the clock ever since. It's very liberating, I must tell you. I guess this would be the "Acceptance" stage if I had a terminal illness. No visible tattoo's according to the dress code? Guess who's been wearing short sleeved shirts? No jeans? That's too bad, becauase I've been lookin' damn sexy in mine for the last week and a half. I'm seriously considering coming in to work drunk at this point.
I called in to my HR department and confirmed that I have about two and a half days of time off that I have accrued since I started. Today is Monday. I start the new job on Friday...
Hmmmmmmmm.
I'm seriously considering just using those up rather than having to drive to Torrance for the next three days and help with some file archiving. I mean, come on! Fucking Torrance?! That's just taking advantage, man. Do I look drunk? No. Am I wearing a prom dress? No.
So stop trying to fuck me.
Has anyone in the blogosphere that checks in to my little corner been in this situation? Speak up!
