Just Time To Go
Friday. Guinness and a hot dog after work at Roy's with the usual crew (Roy's is an eclectic bar with an eccentric owner where a diverse group congregates and one can have a decent glass of on tap Guinness poured American style). Not maybe the best plan after the sake last night, but I cruised on through and finished with a reasonable buzz and disposition. The day warm, some might say overly warm in the afternoon, but a cool breeze now in the early evening; a cool breeze augmented by the fan blowing balcony air across my lap, Ms. Emmy in a better mood now that I've scratched her back and paid appropriate attention.
It's two weeks before retirement and I'm sure the time will at least in retrospect go by in a wink, but I'm still glad there's a weekend ahead and I can sleep. A sure sign it's time to leave, maybe, this needing to sleep and perhaps hide from the world, but no complaints. All I can say is boy-howdy am I glad I don't have to face the office for very much longer. Here in Oakland.
There are plans for lunches and dinners these next two remaining weeks to toast us off and one, interestingly, to “celebrate” our leaving. The company is holding a “celebration party”. A celebration? A company event to celebrate clearing the decks of all the deadwood? Curious choice of words for an invitation, but suitably revealing. It's a matter of pride that none of our small group will attend. It just encourages the bastards. There's no right or wrong to it: it's just time to go.
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