Closing time

So, today is my last day at the pharmaceutical company.

Seven months, give or take; not a bad run, from the perspective of the last three years. And it's not like I just got up and fired; they were telling me for over a month that it looked like my assignment would end today. Money issues. They're merging with another company. That sort of thing.

So, this afternoon I walk away and never come back. Monday, I rejoin the numbers of the unemployed. (Or, more precisely, those the Labor Department doesn't count as either employed or unemployed.)

There is a bright side, though; with my shiny new metaphorical bar card, I have that extra bit of leverage in getting a job as a lawyer in New York.

Still, leaving a job, even on good terms, leads to a state of melancholy.

Spoke too soon.

So I'm just starting my drive home, when my cell phone rings. It's the temp agency contact, who's just seen the time sheet I faxed in and noted that I'm available for assignment.

Then halfway back home, I get a call asking if I'd be willing to take another assignment at the pharmaceutical company - the same one that I just left.

All this before I can get off the Garden State Parkway, mind.