I AIN'T WORKIN' HERE NO MORE!!

So it's finally happened, after roughly seven months of early mornings, crawling commutes, long hours, low pay, idiot bosses, petty office errands, and enough in-office angst to power a small town, I finally had my last day of work. Those of you who know me personally know the nature of my job, those of you who don't are probably not reading my blog anyway. However, for the edification of any wandering readers or secret admirers let's just leave it as a mid sized, cubicle strewn office in Jersey. It's kind of like The Office except instead of quirky and funny it's sad and tragic.

So how did my last day of work go? Well, here it is in easy to digest, bulleted, highlight form:

• Before work I stopped at my local Dunkin Donuts to buy a Box 'o Joe and an assorted two dozen to give to my co-workers as a little farewell treat. I didn't really want to do this but the last two turn overs (and believe me we have plenty turn overs) did the same thing so I figured they might have had some expectations on me.

• I get stuck in traffic. It's not just any traffic mind you, it's a "SIM City-style, city copter one reporting heavy traffic since you never built anymore roads because you were too busy building up your commercial areas, and now you're screwed" type of gridlock. I later found out some nut decided to make his failed suicide as inconvenient as possible. I don't take the bridge but everyone else in my path does.
  

• I actually end up coming into my last day of work at the latest time I've ever came in. Ironic? I'm not sure.

• I have to keep fielding banal questions along the lines of "So it's your last day eh?" and "Feeling pretty good to get out eh?"

• I do my shit, or at least give the illusion of doing as much of my shit as possible.

• Lunch time rolls around and the boss wants to take me out. I like a free meal as much as the next guy but considering the fact that I've said about a dozen words to this man in my entire 7 months here, I feel like it'll be a little weird.

• I have a hamburger with a large side of silent awkwardness.

• The post lunch period is really the test of a workday. It's five or so straight, break-less hours of work until quiting time. It's all the more difficult to slog through since it's a complete quiting time.

• I spend a good part of my time deleting any evidence of my goofing around on my computer; no cache unturned, no cookie left behind.
  

• With about two hours to go, the wheels fall off the wagon. I'm in that mode in middle school when all the learning was done and everyone was allowed to bring in boardgames and have fun while running out the final week of the year, except I'm the only one in that mode.

• My normal time to leave has arrived, but everyone else is still working. And why not, it's only Friday and we've already worked over 8 hours? Etiquette be damned, I announce my departure.
  

• Handshakes, well wishes, keeping in touch, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, and I'm off.
  

• I speed down the highway, windows down, elbow out, blaring said Johnny Paycheck signature anthem; the song really enters another level when quiting a job like this.
  

• Two and a half minutes into my victory drive home, the woefully short song ends, and my iPod shuffles over to Mr. Big Stuff, that's a pretty good song too.