Less blubbering through chemistry

Today was my last day at work.

I may have mentioned before that I've worked for this company my entire professional career; counting all capacities from humble to the overblown position I just left, I've been employed there for nearly 14 years. Here's hoping that looks like loyalty, and not lack of imagination, when future employers have a gander at my resumé.

Call it what you will, my ability and complete contentment to stay with the same organization for so long, with no end in sight. I knew today would be a hard day. The last week has already been really tough, with more and more people finding out that I'm divorcing my husband and my company at the same time, putting lots of shocked, nearly betrayed faces in my doorway lately. It's been all I can do not to burst into tears, so today I was preemptive and drugged myself during breakfast.

Now, my doctor's instructions were to take half a xanax in the morning, and the other half in the evening. I never take more than half at a time. I took a whole xanax with my Mickey D's egg bagel and orange juice this morning. I was able to hug six, maybe seven people without any stir of emotion even reaching the surface. Even the CEO of the company came up and told me how much I would be missed and shook my hand (the man willingly touched me! My stock went up with my letter of resignation, I guess). The xanax, in its full dosage, put me in my own deeply insulated little mind space, and while I was not particularly effective at my work, at least I was not reduced to a sobbing mass of geek under my desk.

I knew it was time for another big dose when Balulah came into my office with a gift bag for me. Damned if it didn't get me choked up readin' the card, and I hadn't even opened the present yet. Balulah and her husband kick ass, in case I hadn't mentioned that before. They got me a super-sharp engraved money clip:


The engraving says "KTard Rumcake" - one of my many lovely nicknames. And yes, the money did come with the clip!

So, I did what any respectable tough girl would do - I popped another whole xanax. And it's a good thing I did, because not long after that, Arjay brought me the present he and his wife had gotten me. I'm still pinching myself, first of all because it just feels good, and secondly, I can't believe they did it - they got me a fucking 30GB video iPod.


You know I'm gonna carry the Quasimodo video around on this, right?

And they also had my iPod engraved:


I know it's hard to see anything in this shot but the reflection of my camera, but the engraving says "Katy - Glory one song before I go" - it's a quote from a song in RENT. I am sooo getting myself an iTrip for this tomorrow.

Today was my last day at work. That could mean one of two things: Either I would be stripped of my keys and walked out to my car by security personnel, or there would be cake. Luckily, in this case, I took the cake. Only, by my request, it wasn't exactly cake.

Let me say something here. We celebrate a lot of birthdays at work throughout the year, and the celebrations are often accompanied by either some cake I can't stand (I would rather eat a popsicle that's been up a cat's butt than eat a bite of carrot cake, for instance), or it's a production number with cake or pie, strawberries, whipped topping, ice cream...none of that seemed like a good idea to me for my going-away party. And, since it was my party, I could afford to be a prima donna about the whole thing. Balulah asked me for three days what kind of cake I wanted for my party. I hemmed and hawed, asked for angel's food cake, then changed my mind because that would require strawberries and the like, requested cinammon rolls, changed my mind again...just about the point where Balulah was going to give me a cake made from the sole of her shoe swiftly kissing my face, I hit upon the perfect solution:


TWINKIES, motherfucker!

I must say, throwing Twinkies to everyone at the table was a helluva lot more fun than cutting cake, scooping ice cream, remembering who wants frosting pieces and who doesn't...no, dude, just let me throw Twinkies at you!

But the thrill didn't end with Twinkies for me. The folks in my division had all chipped in and bought me even more presents! I never realized how popular I would be in my hour of departure.



The pen is engraved "Katy" and it writes smooooooooth...



Now there's no way I can forget what time it is, or what my name is.

You have to understand, I have a real thing for pocket watches; they have always fascinated me, all my life. I've only owned one other one, given to me by Squirl on my 16th birthday. This one has a flip-up lid on it. It's so cool, I might just wear that and nothing else.

Did I mention that I wore my chaps at work today? Well, not all day. That just wouldn't have been comfortable. But I wore them most of the afternoon because, as I have been saying for the last two weeks, "What are they gonna do - fire me?" Balulah followed me around with a really nice camera for the better part of the day, so there will be more pictures when I get them from her. I promise you assless chaps with a side of inappropriate tongue. What? I'm not totally responsible for what I write here, as I have recently returned from drinks with Arjay and his Missus. Like last week, it's the tequila talking.


The perfect margarita is the one that happens to be in front of me at any given time.

So now, I'm back at the house, charging up my iPod, savoring the incredibly sweet cards and gifts I received, figuring out that some people actually like me, and realizing through my tequila buzz that the last dose of xanax has worn off completely, and that I'm gonna miss those geeky fuckers.

I'll be that whimpering, quivering mass over in the corner, with the kick-ass watch.