There's no greater feeling than turning in two weeks notice. I hoped this was coming, and was putting off ... well, doing work for the last few days so that I had an excuse not to do it. You know, at all. I'm leaving a soul-sucking position - one that gives me no enjoyment or pleasure, and requires poor hours - for a position that involves no personal conflict, and should allow me better hours, with better pay, and in a better environment.
So I turned in my two weeks, did the "it's not you, it's me" dance with my manager while avoiding telling him where I was going to avoid retribution, and am now watching live streaming soccer at my desk. I purchased myself a celebratory bottle of scotch, and will probably need to stop leaving it on my desk when senior managers are walking by.
I'm not sure if it's the impending deadline, or every single person I meet asking why I'm still here doing work that is rapidly draining my motivation, but I have found myself deviating from my usual delay tactics to really just deliberately not looking in the queues I'm supposed to be watching, or even responding to users when they email/IM me.
The bulk of my efforts have gone into preparing for my departure day where I will bring in a large selection of beer and set up a tasting - hopefully at a nearby BYOB restaurant.
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