If paper shredders could speak

I received a gift from the gods on Monday. Given that there's absolutely no work going on in the proposal center, and my MoronManager wants me out of her hair ASAP, she told me I needn't come into the office through my scheduled final day, 9/11.

So Monday was my last day at the worst job I've ever had (extensively documented on this blog). The very last thing I did as I headed for the exit was surprisingly more satisfying than I had anticipated.

I took two of my friends and walked them over to the paper shredder. I gave one my 1/08 offer letter for this job and the other a letter informing me, earlier this year, that I was going to receive a bonus (insultingly puny) for all of my hard work. They proceeded in turn to feed one and then the other document to the shredder.


As the second document was nearly ingested, the shredder stopped. The paper had to be jiggled back and forth, the on-off switch was hit again, and the shredder finished its job.

I like to think that the shredder was choking on my personal as well as the collective negative energy of the staff.