Quitting

I quit my job on Friday. My friend there (the singular form is intentional) poked a little fun at me for leaving steady pay just when the market was tanking. Then we poked a little fun back at him for his opening an e-trade account that day, too. Who knows if that's a smart play by him. I guess people stand to make a little money, if/when the market recovers, by buying low now.

I was at my office for about 12 hours, wrapping things up. I got a little free food, sad corporate fare such as chicken breasts for lunch, chicken wings for dinner. They weren't parties for me, just firm-wide parties. I left on Paralegal Appreciation Week!

With two boxes and three bags worth of stuff to take home, I hailed a taxi just south of Dupont Circle. I put my stuff in the back seat before I told the guy where I was going. I told him, "Silver Spring," and I could tell I'd done the right thing; the guy would've rejected me if he'd known I was going out of the District.

So the driver starts driving south. I say, "Which way are you going?" He says "The parkway to 16th." I say, "That's not the fastest way." Then he says "If you want me to drive on 16th, through the lights, I make more money." I say, "You're right, sorry, I don't drive." I'm still a little skeptical, though.

We pulled in to the house and the fare was at least $4.00 cheaper than my previous taxi ride. I apologize to the guy and give him the amount I had expected to pay, to make up for the hard time I gave him.

I got in and went to sleep, hoping to dream the former career away.