LAST DAY

It’s my last day in an office, as an office-monkey. Hopefully, it will be my last day in any office, ever.

I feel extremely manic - like whenever anyone says anything to me, I want to scream, “Screw you!” and then give them the utterly immature double-birdie. This is totally regardless of who they are or what they say to me. It’s kind of a nice feeling, although I hope I can make it through the day without actually doing it.

In a final and desperate fuck you from Pavlov’s administrative assistant, I have been asked to pack every single history book, premium, and sales tool in the office and ship them to Boston (where my position is moving after I leave), all on my last day. This is a lot of stuff and the task is almost laughably impossible. However, in my heightened, almost-superhero state of bliss, I am tackling the project with speed, superhuman strength, and a big, sloppy smile on my face.

It’s kind of like when some petite woman’s toddler gets pinned under a car (how do toddlers always seem to manage this??) and she somehow summons her five-foot-two, 100-pound body to lift the car off the ground and save her child. You know what that’s called? It’s call love making even the most impossible things possible. Of course, in my case, I’m accomplishing the impossible due to my deep, black, seething, paranoid, hate. But it still feels good.

And when I get off this afternoon, I’m going to eat a big hamburger with Ben and then meet all my friends for drinks at a tacky bar. And tomorrow, for the first time, I’m the only one who gets to tell me what to do.