Last Days

Last days at work are a funny sort of thing.

They're a testament to the surreal, an exercise in the absurd. It's like ignoring the 800-pound gorilla in the room, or ignoring the pink elephant in the room, or whatever other idioms we use to describe the painfully obvious.

Most of all, last days on the job (particularly part-time jobs) are just awkward. You're still expected to do certain things and fulfill certain duties -- ring up customers, answer phones, bag groceries, fold sweaters, stock shelves, help customers, bus tables, wash dishes, etc., etc. -- despite the very blatant fact that it kinda, sorta doesn't matter anymore. Sense of responsibility and work ethic aside, it's all a little pointless. It's like breaking your back trying to swab the deck of the Titanic -- it's a nice gesture, but it doesn't make a difference, it's going to sink anyway. Working your last shift is like living in an 8-hour alternate universe, one that has no consequence or repercussion. Essentially, you can do anything you want. If you do bad, you'll get fired (not preferable of course, but also not the end of the world, especially if you already have your next job lined up). If you do good, it isn't like you'll get a promotion or a raise in pay. And if you do nothing (which is probably the closest to the norm anyway), you'll simply get to leave at the end of the day. It's all the same, one way or the other; nothing lost, nothing gained. It's like a game, and the objective is who can pretend to care the longest.

It makes you wonder why they don't just make the second-to-last day of work your last day of work.