The Sweet Taste of Freedom

You know that song "Born Free" that they're always playing on commercials to demonstrate that a long personal battle has finally been won? I'm playing that song in my head right now. I would be doing leaps and pirouettes around the house if it weren't for my recent change in balance. Instead, I just keep pumping my fists in glee (see this illustrated on the right).

As soon as I left the office yesterday afternoon I realized that I didn't turn in my key. I thought to myself "Shit." I wasn't going to turn around to take it back (because that'd be conspicuous), so I plotted to just bring it in early this morning. I was actually considering mailing it in, but that'd be a pretty punk-bitch thing to do.

I was in the office for about an hour and a half switiching out computer parts and writing missives for a couple of people. As soon as the one guy who doesn't have a key pulled up, I was out the side door faster than you can say "Fuck yeah!" I passed by one coworker on the main road on the way in...I don't think she saw me. I just totally bypassed several hours of, "So, what is it you'll be doing?" I rock.

There's something liberating about being at home at 9 a.m. on a work day. It's like, "Aaaaaahhhh." Now I just have to figure out what I'll do for the next couple of weeks (if in town, that is). Certainly nothing productive.