And maybe we’ll get lucky, and we’ll both live again

You would have to have used a jackhammer to try and get the smile off of my face.
I expected the worst. WIth how unstable of a man my boss is, I expected to be told to “get out.” I expected profanity to be hurled at me.
So with a stomach full of butterflies, I told him that I needed to talk to him. And I told him that my girlfriend had taken a job, and that I was planning on moving, and that I was putting in my two week notice. And then I waited for it.
But it never came. Instead, he wished me the best in the future and said I could use him as a reference.j
The last two weeks of work flew by in a blur. I had managed to keep my job up until the last minute before I left town. That meant I had to pack up my apartment at night, and still try and find time to visit everyone still in Dubuque that I wanted to see.
And then that glorious last day came around. My god it was beautiful. To never have to answer phone call after phone call all day long. To never have to try and sell a satellite dish to a senile old man over the phone again. To never have to care about what features this refrigerator has over the next. To never have to awkwardly video tape a wedding again. To not be called “fella” by my boss every day.
I couldn’t stop smiling as my car sped down the highway back home.
There’s a lot of uncertainty and adjusting to do now though, but waking up this morning to take my girlfriend to her first full day of work, I felt good about myself. And I had forgotten what that felt like.