I quit

I just cycled home from work for the last time, laden down with three bags full of presents (some so thoughtful! like the copy of Everything Worth Knowing from one guy who heard me talk about The Devil Wears Prada exactly once, and the stroopwafels! so many stroopwafels!) I'd finished up by about 3 and spent the rest of the afternoon surfing the internet and chatting. I've learned more about some of my colleagues in the past month than in the previous three and a half years - I think handing in my notice flipped an honesty switch somewhere, and now people feel they can say anything to me because I'm leaving anyway (and to be fair, vice versa, I've let rip on more than one occasion this past month).

I still think it hasn't quit hit me that I am now unemployed (albeit only for a week) - mainly because I have nothing to compare this whole job-quitting malarkey to. There is a huge difference between walking out the door at the end of a three week temp assignment and handing in one's security badge featuring an almost unrecognisable photo of oneself taken at the age of 22. I think it'll only really hit me on Monday morning when I wake up and realise that there is no job to go to, and moreover that I have two days to sort and pack my worldly belongings before Fedex arrive.

In the meantime, I have a weekend full o' fun ahead, with the highlight (hopefully) being my leaving do tomorrow night, where the theme will be Come Dressed As A Song Title. A full recap and photos will follow! In the meantime, tell me what you would come as...