earthbelow

So, I'm officially now in what I call the End Zen.

The End Zen is that very wonderful, laid back, *whatever, dude* kind of feeling you get when you've picked out the exact date and time you're going to give your boss your two weeks notice.

I have it on a cryptic sticky note on my computer at work that just says "July 10th".

Quitting a job is about the best part of having one at all. Second best to having money. Which is why I don't quit jobs as often as I'd like to.

Something about being able to look at everything through a soft little haze of "I'm never gonna have to see your ugly face again" makes this nice sort of Buddhist calm come over me.

All the things that used to bother me suddenly have no power to even appear on my *radar*.

And I did not at all miss my manager once I picked the date out.

Really, it's a *magical* thing. If you can afford to, try it. Hold it close to your chest like poker cards and smile that secret little smile that means that you're about to bust out of there and leave 'em with a, "BWAHAHAHAHA! Who's goin' on to the bigger and better? That'd be me? Hahaha, who are you? Who are *you*?!?!?"

I probably will, for about twenty nanoseconds, miss a few people. But those are nanoseconds. They pass.

And then, I'm gonna throw myself a little minature "I don't have to go back to work on Monday!" party. It'll be great. There'll be smoothies. Thick, creamy, luscious strawberry smoothies with the little bits of strawberry at the bottom that clog your straw and make you wanna lick the lid. Oh yeah.

Quitting pwns so hard.

35 days 'til Q-Day. Count it down, people. Count it *down*.