Yesterday, I cleaned out my desk. This gave me a very strange feeling. Every time in the past I have had to clean out my desk, I have been filled with suppressed rage (over getting laid off) or worry (over thinking about the upcoming job hunt). This time, those conditioned feelings were trying to surface, but before making an appearance, they quickly realized there was no point and I am not really “leaving,” just working from far away. Then, as I carted my computer and monitor to the car, I started feeling like Ed Norton in Fight Club after beating up the boss and convincing them to give him a year's salary to work from home. The whole experience yesterday was surreal. It is like my emotions are preconditioned for a number of situations and had absolutely no idea how to deal with this particular one.
I will be working for a few hours on Monday–testing the equipment, VPN, and video conferencing stuff from home–but then will have a nice, not-so-relaxing, probably stressful, twelve days off to clean, move, and unpack.
I am a hot, sweaty, stinky monkey. Moving boxes and disassembling wall-length shelving units is not uplifting.
Tonight is all about the 1.75L jug of Lynchburg Lemonade. This stuff has been sitting in the fridge, calling to me, since I originally wanted to drink it at the onset of that head cold a couple of weeks ago.