Real folk blues.

So then. Today was my last day of work.

Naturally, it was the best damn day of work I've ever had.

Both of the people I wasn't in the mood to put up with were "sick," and today was just...a day. The GBB and the other geeky guys in the department snickering because they'd found about a gig of porn on a laboratory computer and had a good guess as to whose it was, training a friend of mine in using a program I helped develop, getting complimented by the GBB, PW-III deciding he was an elite haxx0r and trying to hack the company's network from a locked-down computer just to prove that he could, construction fumes making everyone giggly, and finally getting my hands on some of the product I was working on when I started there so I can show it to people and say, "I helped make this."

I nearly cried. Damn, I'm going to miss that place. Stressful and stupid as work could be, stress-inducing and stupid as my coworkers could be, I'm still going to miss them all. Well, almost all.

On a related topic, why the hell do people keep assuming I'm an artist?