Day Sixty-Five

I finally managed to get up early for a walk, and was rewarded with a magical mist-shrouded landscape. Work was super high-pressure — in other words standard for the last several months. I’m glad I’m getting out.

My Keane manager called to say that my Goldman Sachs manager was not willing to transfer me to another department, which I expected. Since I’m not going to back down on that, it means I will be leaving. Now it’s just a matter of figuring out how and when.

He also asked me about the specifics of my statement that I will not be commuting to Jersey City starting in July. He knows that I’m willing to begin and end my work days at 200 West in Manhattan and take the ferry to Jersey City in between, but he needed to tell my boss whether I would need to do that every day. I gave him a firm “Yes”. Let my boss suck on that unit. I hope he thinks I’m bluffing. Hee. That’ll be fun.

So I worked my ass off and oh my, I hope they think that I’ll be easy to replace. That’ll also be fun, thinking of those pathological and abusive so-and-sos trying to hold together the rickety framework that I’ve toiled under for years. It’s been convenient for them to blame me because they haven’t been able to snap their fingers and get what they want. Let them try to get what they want when I’m gone.

All right, all right, enough grumbling. Shake it off, Hugh. Which is pretty much what I did after work. I had a hot, sweaty, crowded walk over the Brooklyn Bridge. But hey, it’s the Brooklyn Bridge, the best walk in town! Even a bad walk over the bridge is tinged with glory.

The day culminated in a bloody marvelous celebratory dinner at New Ashiya, at a big table bound with friends and covered with sushi, beer and sake. You can’t ask for more.

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