Oh, hi. You're still here?

Every additional day that we’re here since our pseudo-going away party, I get the same reaction from people. The words that come out of their mouths say, “Aren’t you outta here soon?” But just underneath their words, I can hear this creepy, soft whisper that keeps repeating, “Geeeet…ouuut.” Then the elevator walls bleed.

I’m sure the reason for this has nothing to do with Crissy and I sauntering through the halls at work, snapping our suspenders and correcting pronunciation. “Actually? In New York? Houston St. is pronounced HOWston like Faust, not HEWston like beef stew.” Then we titter with amusement and sip our highballs.

But it’s only partially our fault that we’re still here. First it was The Corporation taking a really long time to get me the offer letter after I raced in and told my boss I quit. Then I dragged my heels while trying to get The Corporation to pay for things like my family’s Christmas gifts and one massage per hour as part of my contract. Then our current job informed us that we’d have to pay them back the vacation time we haven’t earned yet. Haven’t earned? Wha??

The missus already mentioned this in an earlier post, so I won’t go into great detail, but the outcome of our emotionally-charged meeting with the CFO (I think that stands for Cyborg Faux-humanoid Organism), was that we’d be offered the opportunity to “work off” some of the remaining vacation days that we “owe.” Like we were sopping up the last bit of gravy in our pot-pies when I noticed I forgot my wallet, so now we have to earn our meals by washing dishes in the kitchen.

Which means that instead of being done on Friday, September 5th, now we need to come in on Monday September 8th for dish and mop duty. I guess if coming for the extra day will be an extension of the high-level staring contest I’m having with my computer screen, I can handle that. But I don’t have to like it.

Oh, and this is a picture of Crissy and an electrified Ramona Quimby on the boat up in Lake Geneva. Unlike my last image, this one is not doctored. Ramona pooped out the lightbulb an hour later.