Yesterday, I had to go in to work early, because we were celebrating three staff birthdays with Chipotle take-out, and since it was on my way, I had to pick it up. No big deal; just part of the gig.
Got to work and tried to log in to the computer using my personal password for my laptop. I guess that means that mentally, my last day on my job was Wednesday. Hmm.
The staff that were there set up the tables and started distributing meals. The other admin asked me where all the "on the side" stuff was - I told her that all I got was the one big box. So no salsas or guacamoles or tortillas for anyone who'd ordered them. Rut-roh.
They had their party anyway; I stayed at the front desk and my meal got cold. Not that I was hungry for it yet, but there was never a moment that anyone said, "hey, shouldn't emelle get to partake in this levity? I'll go cover the front desk for a bit." See? I'm already non-existent.
Once they'd cleared the party, I went to get my meal. It was COMPLETELY wrong. Since I knew they hadn't gotten their sides, I showed the manager the email that confirmed the order she'd placed, and what pissed her off the most was that they'd been charged a couple bucks for every order of guacamole. I didn't WANT guac but got it as part of my COMPLETELY wrong meal. So the other admin called to get a credit on the credit card, since so many orders were at least a little bit wrong, and she embellished a bit (I think) about the food not being hot, etc. We were laughing about her phone impersonation of the boss, but she ended up taking the credit card physically to the store to get the credit. Meanwhile, my meal was inedible, and since I wasn't actually hungry yet, I just set it aside for my actual lunch break.
At which point, I drove it over to the store, with a printout of what I had ordered (making sure not to include any of the other orders or the total, in case they remembered having credited my meal already). Got in line; presented my WRONG meal with my printout, and the chick sent me to the end of the line to have a supervisor process it. Without even the slightest argument, they replaced my meal, and they threw in a drink and chips. "All that, and a bag of chips!" It was good. My patience paid off.
Got home last night so tired that I only had time to eat some of Stephen's excellent day-old (homemade) banana/coconut/chocolate chip ice cream and check one or two things in my personal internets before I fell asleep over my computer while sitting on the couch next to Geoff, our houseguest. Twice.
Finally went to bed by midnight, and was allowed to sleep in until 8:30-ish, and I'm much more coherent now. I've started creating "how to do this job" documents at work, since I have no idea if there will be an actual person for me to train before next Friday. But considering that I've been dog-tired and I didn't actually exist at work at all, I'm going to have to re-read yesterday's doc. Who knows what I said?
I've been saying good-bye to more and more of the students, most of whom have not heard through any grapevine that I'm leaving. I've been giving and getting lots of hugs. I may not exist for my boss or some of the staff, but at least I do for the students. It's getting more difficult to work my notice, not because the job's getting harder, but because of all of the "I'm/We're going to miss you"s and the heart-to-heart hugs I've been sharing.
Side note: a "heart-to-heart" hug is one where your face goes to the left shoulder of the other person, aligning your hearts. This is a VERY difficult thing for ballroom dancers to learn, because ballroom frame puts your head to your own left. Betcha didn't know that, didja?