lesson learned

i'm going to hell.

i surely am.

hippie sex predator just stopped me and asked if he could talk to me privately.

i was apprehensive as i followed him into the file room. talking "privately" was not a good thing; the last time he had caught me in private, he had asked me if there was anything wrong, because i'd been treating him so callously and brusquely.

once in the file room, though, to my surprise, he began saying his goodbye to me. he won't be here tomorrow, he said, but "i really like you and think you're so cool." he said he was sad to see me go.

i was immediately touched by this speech alone -- and also ashamed because of the way i have treated him and talked shit.

and then he gave me two gifts:

a glass ring, because, as he said, "i know you like wearing chunky rings."

and a tiny silver wish box in the shape of a star and that has a latch with which to keep the tiny lid closed. "i put a wish in there for you, that you pass your bar exam."

i have no words.

i'm so touched.

his words and acts have really made my week.

i am surely going to hell. i will stop talking shit about him now.

in fact, if i ever mention him here on this blog again, i will use different nickname: troll with a heart.*

so not to go all sesame street or anything. . . .

but i've learned my lesson.

and i'm sorry.

* sorry. but sweet gestures aside, he still does look like a troll. and can be as uncouth as one. but his heart, in the end, belies his appearance and manners (and smell).

feelings of nostalgia, now that my days of employment are narrowly numbered

things i'll miss about my rubber-stamping job

1. ending up with ink-stains all over my hands at the end of each work day without fail.

2. re-filling up my ink pads with those roll-on inker things.

3. the challenge of stamping each page of a 100+ page document and trying to make sure the stamp lands on the same spot and in a straight manner on each and every page.

4. lubing up the first two fingers and thumb of my left hand with sortkwik, the "non-staining fingertip moistener" that offers an "easy, clean way to get a grip."

5. mindlessly losing myself in a meditative, zen-like way in performing the same manual tasks over and over.

6. leaning against the office's old copy machine, which vibrates just the slightest bit to give me a cheap but pleasant thrill for the day.

;)

7. forgetting that, for the first time in my life ever, i have direct deposit so that when i log into my bank account over the internet, my eyes grow a-gog at the amount of money that has miraculously* appeared in my account.

* "miraculously" as in "i forgot to expect money in there!" -- not as in "gee, that sure is a lot of money in there."

8. meeting a whole bunch of cute and smart doctors, residents, and other kinds of staff here at the med. center.

9. talking shit with kooky, g.w.n.h., and ghetto supa-star about work in general and also about our other more-irritating co-workers.

things i sure as hell won't miss about my rubber-stamping job

1. hippie sex predator's disgusting bodily stench, which follows him around like ruby gloom and her dreary cloud of dark rain.

2. hippie sex predator yelling on the phone for sometimes hours at a time at his wife, son, doctor, health insurance provider, friends, neighbors, and a whole host of other characters for something or other and otherwise providing way too much info about himself.

3. hippie sex predator's fuggly countenance and short, highly disgusting, oompa-loompa-like appearance.

4. hippie sex predator himself (obviously).

5. the long-assed staff meetings that go on forever.

6. hustling over to loaner boss' at her insistence and being trained for something or other, then having her drop me like a hot potato and leave me hanging when she gets distracted by other people or events.

7. dealing with difficult people who think i should drop everything to tend to their every whim and otherwise try to make me feel like i'm an insignificant little pea-brain, even though i generally tend to hold two or three more degrees than they do.

8. commuting back and forth for about forty minutes each way, over the span of a measly 18 miles, amongst a sea of bad drivers, through the ghettoes of sactown.

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freedom from the wretched cubicle life in 8 more days!! yay!