Pied Piper advised me to waste more time at work, so here I am, giving it a shot. Of course, to really waste time at work, I would need to hang a sign outside my door that said, "no entrance without an appointment." Every time I try to sit down for a few minutes to slack off, someone barrels into my office with a question, or to bounce ideas off me, or to ask me about my plans.
Why? Because, and I think I forgot to explicity mention it, but I formally, finally, FTLOG quit this ridiculous job. I did not write the resignation letter until today, but last week, it was all out in the open. But now I am rather perplexed. I mean, I read about the joys of quitting, and thought perfect, I'll finally have time to sort all the nitty gritty out. But now, I find myself rather vexed, because instead, I think I actually have more work, less time, and am working later. It is as if I am in some bizarro version of quitting.
As a result, it's all feeling a little rushed. It's all feeling like I need more time. I am resisting the inclination to shout mercy and change plans though. Moving and change are rushed and stressful no matter how much time you allot for it, most likely. And even though I am sure I will pull some hair out over the mad clip I'll have to proceed at to get out of here in one piece, well, I have quite a lot of hair. Also, I'll be grateful when it's May, and all of it is behind me.
p.s. Three visits to the office interrupted the writing of this meaningless and brief post.
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