Friday, February 25, 2005

Bibbity Bobbity BOO!

Today is my last day in that office, four years to the day. Can't say I've done a helluva lot of work the last couple of days. My replacement returned to the office on Tuesday for good, having spent three days with me a couple of weeks ago. She's been doing all of the work--and hasn't wanted my help, even though I've offered countless times--so there really hasn't been much for me to do. I've been camped out at the spare desk in the front office for the last couple of days. Yesterday I spent a chunk of time reading this book (adorable). Late in the afternoon, my replacement wandered out by where I was sitting, laughed and said, "Hey, M, no reading on company time! You're supposed to be making yourself available to me." I thought, "Is she JOKING?!" I certainly hoped so, since first of all, how I spend my time in that office my last few days is none of her fucking concern. And secondly, I've lost track of the number of times I've wandered into my former office and asked, "How can I assist you? Do you have any questions you'd like me to answer? What can I do to help?" and the like.

SIDEBAR: She and the female attorney used to work together--the 'last place of employment' for both is the same place--and they're tight. When the attorney would arrive for work (always much later than the rest of us), she'd rarely say anything as she passed my office. No Hi, Good morning, anything. But since my replacement's been there? It's all (insert sickenly sweet voice that's a sharp contrast with her "I'm a bitchy, snotty wench" voice that's used with the rest of us, including our employer), "Hiiii, how are youuuuu?" to the new gal. Gag.

I do feel sorry for the receptionist though, because she's a dear woman and my pal. And the last time this woman worked there, she made the receptionist's life a living hell. Our employer has assured her that won't be the case this time--that my replacement is different than she was six years ago. I think that remains to be seen. I've already seen glimpses of the bitchiness that they said colored her previous stint there.

But all I have to do is show up for one more day. A day when the receptionist and I are being taken to lunch by my employer and one of his partners at one of the best restaurants on the island. At the end of the day, I'll get my final check. Wish me luck--I'm hoping he's gonna pad that baby!
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Yesterday I took our list of sale items to work and passed out a few copies. By the time I left the office, I'd already sold half the items. The receptionist joked, "That's the easiest 'yard sale' I've ever seen!" I highly recommend it if you're moving: compile a detailed list of items to be sold, including prices, pass out copies to friends and acquaintances, and get ready to make some money. (Of course, it probably only works well if you're able to deliver the items to your workplace and/or live in a small place where delivery or pick-up isn't time-consuming.) Boyfriend and I have loaded several items into the car this morning for delivery today (one load to the receptionist and another to be dropped off at one of our sister offices). And boyfriend has already sold both of our TV's to one of his coworkers. The buyer will pick them up right before we head off-island.
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My almost-houseguest retires from her job today, after 20 years of employment at the headquarters of an HMO in Portland. She boards a red-eye to Chicago at 11:30 tonight and arrives here at 3:00 tomorrow afternoon. Then it's fun-in-the-sun for these two old gals for the next week, as we chill out at the beach and catch up on the last five years of our lives.
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One new development: The resident managers of the island's lone self-storage facility (which is owned by my employer and his partner) are heading off-island for a month-long vacation. They had asked me a couple of weeks ago if I might be available (once I leave my present position) to offer some back-up to the woman who staffs their office. (She works full-time--they sometimes just need an extra pair of hands.) I notified them immediately when we decided to move, since we'll be leaving before they return from their trip. They asked if I'd still be willing to help out. If it was anyone else, I'd likely have said no. But they're super-nice people, I'm very fond of them and they want a minimal commitment. I said yes for four reasons: 1) we're already way ahead of our sort/pack/move schedule five weeks out, 2) it would only be two days a week, 3) it'll pay for our plane tickets to California, and 4) I don't know when I'll have a chance to generate some income again. Plus the boyfriend will still be doing gigs, so it's only fair that I should be doing something to add to our coffers if I have the chance. So starting Monday, March 7, I'll be working there on Mondays and Fridays only for three weeks. We'll still have our last full week on-island to lounge and relax. Boyfriend plans to do his last gig on March 24.
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And now? Excuse me while I squeeze my 50-year-old ass into my 501's, slip on my favorite pink striped shirt and kicky hot-pink sandals, and grace them with my fabulousness one last time.

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Whee for short-timer's syndrome!!

~lizardek

4:29 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

You so woman!

That's from a favorite poem of mine and now that you brought it to mind I'm going ot have to go onto amazon to buy me a copy of the collection so i can give you the whole poem in its entirety (I so stupidly lent my copy out and never got it back). ~bluepoppy

5:31 PM  
Blogger secret agent josephine said...

I love kicky sandals!

12:11 AM  

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