Last Day, Gemini 26

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

My last day working at this place.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Rules I'm breaking at this point:
I'm wearing jeans in a less-than-perfect condition.
I'm wearing sandals.
My shirt technically falls under the "sports apparel" guidelines of the employee handbook.

Last week, after learning of my soon-to-be dismissal, I decided to put a cap on the number of older gentlemen I would talk to who shouldn't be using the internet, much less risking thousands of dollars trading futures online. I decided one for every month of service here would be a good number, and I came up with 29. If the company can't see fit to pay me for an extra 1.25 days of vacation time earned for working half of the month of June, I'm not giving them the extra old guy.

At this point, I have two remaining, and I'm allowing duplicates to count as one. After those two are used up, well, they get put on hold. They can wait for someone else. I'm just not putting up with that anymore.

Last night I did something I should have done a while ago. I went out and got a new digital camera. My last one has been broken or less-than-functional since my 30th birthday party. It was high time to replace it, and the same basic model was on sale, so the words 'fuck it' came out of my mouth and I plunked down a small portion of my retention bonus for a cheap new camera.

Just in case you were wondering where the self-portrait came from. Or the picture of my cat trying to figure out what kind of drink I poured myself below. Try to ignore the messiness of my coffee table. Thanks.