Things I will miss:
- The coffee - Sweet Jesus, I have never gotten as much use out of my Mr. Coffee maker as I have in these past few months. I used to feel that I was rotting away my insides when I subsisted on the watered-down instant Foldgers and off-brand non-dairy creamer my old office offered me on a daily basis. Nowadays I've been spoiling myself with organic coffee beans freshly ground for me from the Hartford Coffee Co. right down the street, with a healthy splash of real half-and-half. I can drink two pots of this delicious black elixir every day if I'm not careful. The downside, of course, is that I have never been as desparately addicted to caffeine as I am now.
- The commute - What commute? My morning routine essentially consists of me rolling out of bed, throwing on some pants (optional), switching on my computer, and voila!, I'm at work. Not for one second do I miss being stuck on the interstate hell that is I-71, where I would typically curse until I was hoarse before I even showed up to work. It made me a very angry, irritable person. If you met me today you'd swear I was gellin' like Magellan.
- Robin & Co. - Is there a better source for mindless national news in the morning? I think not!
- The music - While iPods are essential to getting through the day at a stiflingly quiet office, wearing the earbuds all the time can make you appear stand-offish and jumpy, because you never know when someone (i.e., your manager) might be creeping up behind you. At the home HQ it's a non-stop-rockathon coming out of my speakers. I can sing along to Biz Markie's "Just a Friend" all day on repeat without getting curious looks from my co-workers (I recently rediscovered my love of Biz after watching an episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia during my lunch break, which leads me to my next point...)
- The lunch hour - Nothing's more depressing than your typical corporate lunch (half) hour: grabbing a soggy brown-bag lunch from the communal fridge and scurrying back to your cubicle to scarf it down like a mole man while reading Google News, or worse, eating with co-workers in the break room that invariably smells like microwaved broccoli. The Well Respected Bistro regularly served up oven-cooked meals or panini-style sandwiches fresh from the George Foreman Grill, complimented with an endless stream of snacks and beverages, which were regularly consumed on the couch while watching TV shows on DVD (e.g., the IASIP episode where Dennis and Dee are celebrating their newfound unemployment by drinking tallboys on the stoop of their apartment, singing Biz Markie, before deciding to apply for welfare: "Hello, I'm a recovering crack head, and this is my retarded sister that I take care of. I'd like some welfare, please.")
Things I will not miss:
- The cats - Cats jumping on my laptop when I'm trying to type; cats getting into hissing fights when I'm trying to talk on the phone; me turning into the sort of guy who complains about cats.
- The sloth - It's a very humbling experience when you're signing for a package delivery in your sweatpants and robe at 1:00 p.m., and you realize that the UPS guy probably thinks you're the most slovenly, lazy, and unhygenic person on his entire delivery route.
- The construction - The house next to mine has been undergoing daily construction work for the past few months, and while the sounds of constant hammering and chiseling can be irritating, it's the sleazy workers singing T.I. and Lil John loudly and poorly that really gets to me. No discernable progress has been made on the house.
- The space - I'm looking forward to having a dining room that functions as a dining room, instead of an office/dining room that is overrun with books and papers from work. It'll be really nice to leave work at work when 5:00 hits.
- The isolation - I mean, c'mon, look at me: I'm a sweatpants-wearing, cat-talking, caffeine-addicted, '90s rap-singing hermit who's developed strong personal opinions about morning cable news personalities and construction workers. I think you'd agree that getting out more on a regular basis would be good for me.
In any case, what's done is done. I dropped off all my old work belongings to the sullen UPS Store employee who only listens to '80s synth pop, and I get to start over in a brand new company on Monday. In the meantime, I'm unemployed and looking forward to Thanksgiving in St. Louis.