Out. Done. Finished. Over.
I sent my resignation e-mail on Monday.
My manager sent me one back stating he had accepted it and he appreciated that I gave a "professional two weeks."
WHAT THE FUCK IS A PROFESSIONAL TWO WEEKS?
See... here's the deal. I work for a company. They are involved in comptuter technology - primarily the so-called repair of computer technology. To protect the names of the innocent, we'll create a name for this company. Since it's computers, it should be something with "tech" but we'll have to change the spelling. And since they are in the repair business we'll have to come up with something witty on the front end. Like "Break-tek." Or "Dipshit-Tek." Or "Backwards-Bunch-of-Idiot-Assholes-Tek."
Like I said, I work for Break-Tek. They contract to companies and organizations to provide on-site service. I'm an on-site technician. At least for the next two weeks.
Since I actually respect the people who I see everyday - those being the company paying Break-Tek money (call that "AMOUNT A" ) for my services so that Break-Tek can pay me a salary (computed by dividing "AMOUNT A" by 2 and then giving me 5% of that amount.) - I did give a two week notice.
The last time I quit Break-Tek (I never learn...) I gave one week.
But anyway, now I'm stuck here for two more fucking weeks. And today is the worst so far. I've got salsa music coming out the cube in front of me and the guy two cubes to my right has, since my arrival, been my main source of hate. See, two-cubes-away-man has no inside voice. And he's on the phone ALL FUCKING DAY LONG.
But I won't have to deal with it any more. I'm outta here. Goodbye one-way hour and a half commute (on a good day) and goodbye worthless 1.5% raise.