Off to the Rodeo

Today is my last day, which is strangely the exact same day I started two years ago. Some are sad, others are waiting till tomorrow for the ticker-tape parade (what am I from 1937 or something?). I have mixed emotions so far.

These are the battles:
Making me happy- The thought of a four-day weekend up at the lake with a trip to Put-In-Bay, envelopes and notebooks and pens galore, no more hair-pulling beats.

Making me sad- Never Say Goodbye was on the radio this morning, giving my stuff away or just tossing it all together, no JD on TV today, no more awesome coworkers and no more stripper Christmas parties.

Goodbye and thanks for all the fish

G. Jonah's parents say you'll always miss your first real job out of college. I'll reserve judgement for a few months, but I'm pretty sure they're right.

I must admit I nearly got teary-eyed when I informed the Man about my future plans. I won't miss the uncertain feelings that have been floating around as of late, but I imagine I'll never again feel comfortable enough at a workplace to shoot off my big mouth as much as I do now (honestly, where else can you sing the My Buddy commercial at work?).

When I moved to Columbus two years ago, I was a little nervous. The only people I knew in town where two friends of my parents and my ex's BFF. This damn cubicle has given me experience, one ball (I hope to grow the other eventually), a hot-air balloon ride, great friends, G. Jonah and a palate for Central Ohio.

I'd be lying if I said I won't miss smartass emails, pulling pranks on coworkers, Cat Tales discussions, the shrew's hats, paycheck cries and the nest. But I can't have a burial plot in the back next to Teter so I guess it's time to move on.

It's been fun. Best of luck to all the other slaves.

RIP

Condolenses go out to all victims of black Thursday and the resulting fallout of Sewage Friday. If comfort can be offered it will most likely come in the form of gunfire out at the farm next weekend amidst booze and peanutbutter ice cream.

In other sad news, my Happy Sunshine Foundation funds remain at $0. Please send me donations. I can think of no better way to wash away this week's drudgery than firing a cannon off the cliffs of my sunburned tropical island. You all can come and enjoy the show, but I warn you the boat has sprung a leak and the dolphins aren't always dependable for a ride.

On life in the shoes of G. Jonah Jameson

It sucks. I don't think there are any other words to succinctly describe it unless you'd like me to be more eloquent and curse.

I was the last one to leave yesterday and the first here today. Someone shoot me.

I now understand why the hard-nose, cigar-smoking editor had such an attitude against Spiderman. "Who is Spider-Man? He's a criminal that's who he is! A vigilante! A public menace! What's he doing on MY front page?"

Is Columbus a He or a She?

It's an odd thing when you start referring to cities as people. Such as Delaware said, "He just doesn't understand me," or Columbus said, "You suck. You have B.O. and you throw like a girl."

I guess it's worse when you know cities would insult you if they could talk.

I need a vacation.

Boredomitis

This whole boredom thing is getting out of hand. I am seriously considering counting all the dots on the ceiling, but that sounds rather boring.

I've had this issue forever. My parents told me my first words were "This mobile sucks. I'm bored."

I wouldn't be worried, but the internets are even beginning to bore me-- The internets! That's pretty sad, considering it's a whole world of knowledge at my fingertips. And I even did extra work last week because I was bored.

I foresee doom and destruction unless I find something to amuse me soon.

My Shining Accomplishments

For today, they are none unless you count taking up space and grumbling.

In all my extra time of sitting around and waiting on other people, I am pondering employment in the field of contract killing.

I keep picturing O-Ren Ishii sniping a diplomat from a skyscraper and can't help but think it'd be a fun job.

But I have a few questions before I melt off my fingerprints and buy an arsenal.

Do I need any formal education or training? I'm not so hot on joining the army, but I'm pretty sure a stint in the Foreign Legion wouldn't hurt my chances of getting a $1 million hit.

How do I contact potential employers? I can't imagine stumbling across a hit contract in the want ads and I'm pretty sure employment agencies are out. Perhaps there's a Web page like murderjobs.com or something like that...

What kind of resume should I put together? Should it include body parts and blood? Do I need references?

This sounds like a lot of work, but right now I've got the time.

Bad Habits

In the interest of not wasting time I'm blogging at work... quite a conundrum, eh?
I'm hoping that working on improving my writing and communication will qualify as work-related activity as I have nothing else to do but sit around and wait for others to get their act together. I've exhausted the internet and it's come to this.
That and technically I shouldn't even be here.
On the brighter side Jerry Falwell died today. I never realized before that he's based in Lynchburg, TN the home of Jack Daniels.... does anyone else see the irony?
Also, I recently discovered the fact that despite the Jack Daniel's distillery being located in Lynchburg, it's a dry town. More irony from Tennessee.

Concerning recent events

I've recently been thinking about a job change (some many know what I mean) and I've decided to fore go the staplers and cubicles next time. Sitting in front of a computer for 8 hours a day just isn't for me and I'm beginning to think it's totally unnatural for all humans.
I'm thinking of something outdoors and in the sun. I'm not considering lawncare, but I am thinking about moving down to Key West, living on the beach and finding some skill I can sell on the street (not prostitution, get your mind out of the gutter).
Does anyone know how to create dinnerware from palm leaves? I've seen it done before, but I'm totally clueless on to do it.
I am concerned about a few things though.... I relish air conditioning, showers and indoor restrooms, but I can adapt, right?
The presence of bugs also bothers me. Yesterday I killed a centipede and this morning a spider that jumped at me the first time I swang at it. I've been looking over my shoulder for more ever since.
Maybe I'll sleep in my car instead of the beach. Will I die in the hot car?
Probably.
I don't know how dogs survive every summer when their owners "run into the store."
But on the bright side, that would solve my job conundrum.