I'd like to say something dramatic, like "you know what this feels like? The end of Braveheart, where Mel Gibson's William Wallace is crying out 'FREEEEEDOOOOOOM!' while someone pulls his guts out...", but it's actually been rather anticlimactic.
I didn't even wake up feeling as though a great weight had been lifted. It's just... like the weekend started early... or I'm on holiday.
Sure, I sent out a great, long farewell email yesterday, which said everything I really felt the need to say (no, nothing nasty) and did a great deal of hugging (still riding high on the wave of smug self-satisfaction after scamming a kiss out of the only decent Sales Manager in the place) as I accepted compliments from all corners on the eloquence of my email.
I've even vowed to keep in touch with some of them - one, a recent hire, is a Trekkie, very sharp, and extremely witty; another offered to attempt to match-make for me when she learned I'm single - and several I'll be connecting to via LinkedIn, if nothing else.
Today, as is fairly typical, I've been starting to feel a little unwell - probably just the return of a cold, rather than having anything to do with the resurgence of Swine Flu.
I popped out early today to Smyths, having learned that the first wave of Hasbro's Reveal The Shield subline of TransFormers has hit the shelves... Picked up Jazz and Tracks, both of which are awesome. I passed for the time being on Fallback, the predicted repaint of Revenge of the Fallen Brawn... but it is such a good mold, I will probably pick it up eventually.
What I haven't done is wrap any of the bloody presents... so that'll be my first project tomorrow, after receiving my new fridge. Then I'm off to my parents' for Christmas... and probably staying longer than I'd expected, going by the weather reports...
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