I've already moved 95 percent of my stuff down the hall to my new cube. A cube with a view in fact, the first view of the outside world I've had during work hours since I worked in Texas. I had the only desk in the newsroom where you could see the river. It wasn't much, but it was more than the guy next to me. It was also in a corner. That was very nice.
What the hell do you do on your last day on a contract? It's not like they're going to let us go early, those are billable hours and the company is going to get every last cent out of us. Before they cut us adrift like the Bounty mutineers did to Capt. William Bligh.
Nothing else to say on this. In a little less than six hours I'm done doing what I do and, on Monday, will be back doing something different. Something infinitely more interesting.
Words you've never heard said before: I can't wait until Monday.
1 p.m. Update: Four out of my five co-workers who were going to be unemployed Monday just got the word they successfully interviewed for the jobs they currently have. I was sitting nearby and listened in as the new contractor's rep was telling them all about how the company is sweetness and light and how they rent out the Air and Space Museum for their Christmas party and this and that and blah, blah, blah, blah-blah.
I was thinking, damn, that sounds like a pretty decent deal.
Then I remembered, out of everyone I work with, I'm the only one who really moved up in this whole situation. I'm extraordinarily pleased for all of them and glad I'll still be working near some of them, but I'm also glad I'll be moving on to something new Monday.
