Friday Flashback: Last Day Of Work

This Sunday will mark the eighth anniversary of my last day of work. Just in case you're keeping score at home, that comes out to 2,920 days since I last traded my time for money.

Mrs. TBF says I am now completely unemployable. Me? I'm not so sure. I think, if I really tried, I could probably land a minimum-wage job somewhere in the world. Of course, I always have my friend Dr. Andy to fall back on. He's a VP of sales, and he's always telling me that "...we could use a guy like you!" So far, he's offered me sales positions in Paris and Moscow. But my deal-breaking demands of a mid six-figure salary, only working three days per week, and only working between the hours of 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. (with two hours off for lunch) on those days seems to have scared him off...at least for now.

Here's a picture of me on my last day of work - September 21, 2000. Since I had a company car (the white Chevy Impala on the right), my boss (Randy) had to drive me home in his car. Actually, he first took me out for dinner, and THEN he drove me home. That evening I took off the "work uniform" for the last time, and I've rarely worn a tie since then. Nowadays, on the rare occasion I do wear a tie, I really have to think about how to even tie one. Back in my working days I used to do it every single morning, without even thinking about it, when I was half-asleep.

Seeing this picture now has me thinking about Randy - all 5'6 AND 1/16th" of him ("When you're as short as me, you count every 1/16th of and inch!"). I'll be back in Chicago in just over a month, and it's been several years since I've seen him. Perhaps I should meet him for lunch and test whether I'm completely unemployable or not by asking him if he'd hire me back.

Hopefully, his answer will be NO!