Notice period

Oh I feel so fleshy and thick. My arms and legs are swollen with the copious amounts of wine and carbohydrates. I feel so sluggish and ill. I am also starting to feel quite guilty knowing that I am deliberately stuffing myself and drinking myself into some form of contentment. Continually trying to hush the uncertainty that I currently feel. I know my butt will barely leave my seat for the remaining 7 hours left of my unfulfilling day. I will then make my way home which involves a 20 minute bus journey and a 15 minute walk. I will open the door to my bedsit and remove my tight jeans in mere seconds, before pulling on my extra snuggy flannel pyjama bottoms and old t-shirt. I will then proceed to fly into my double bed with rapid speed, whilst grabbing my laptop with kung pho movement. The next 5 hours of my remaining day will be spent immersed in the various antics of some movie that will take me away from my reality. This comatose state will be repeated for the remainder of the week.

I swore to myself that I would do the right thing and work until the end of my contract.I am now having second thoughts which mostly involve the question ‘why break the habit of a life time? You never work your notice. Why change things now? Just remind yourself how much crap they have put you through!!’. Part of me feels that as an adult I should be more mature and leave on a good note, creating some much needed good karma. Then I argue with myself that who gets anywhere doing the right thing? In 4 months’ time when I am on the other side of the world will I think to myself ‘I am so glad I worked my notice’ or will I think ‘I am glad I went back to Wales and spent and extra two weeks with people who actually love me’. Hmmmm when I put it like that there really is no contest. I also know well enough now that once your gone no one will give you a second thought. Ok that is a harsh but let’s face it, It will be a passing thought. In a few weeks’ time they will have some other poor ant to sit in my seat and continue the irrelevant, mundane, mind numbing work that I have had the pleasure of undertaking for the last 2 years. I will be gone and no one will give a flying fuck. I know this. Why I try to convince myself that it will be any different I do not know. I am nothing but a corporate ant here.

Yes, l shall rebel and save myself. Life as we know is far too short. To think I am even contemplating making myself ill and unhappy for an extra two weeks is just ridiculous.

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