Chicklets, I have a new job, and I must say the best part of having a new job is leaving the old one. Once everyone gets over the fact that you are leaving, they will start telling you how great/fun/irreplaceable you are. They will send you nice E-mail messages that you can print out and tack to your bulletin board and look at the next time you do/say/wear something idiotic.
The best part about leaving my particular job is that I get to have a going away party, even though I am only going two floors down in the same building. Today my boss gave me a list of party appetizers and I got to go through and say, we’ll have one nacho supreme tray, one mini fish and chips, and one dessert mélange. Everyone will come out and say goodbye and then I’ll seem them all the next morning.
I am trying to look on the bright side here, because what is lurking beneath all this merry-making is the fact that the new job two floors down means I won’t share an office with Lulu anymore. This has not sunk in yet. There is some possibility that the new job two floors down will literally be exactly two floors down, and then we can rig up a pulley system and pass notes back and forth through our windows. A girl has to have hope.