Parting shot

Today I leave my current job, ending a tenure that saw me at the biggest corpy-corp workplace of my career. With over 10,000 employees, the feeling of being a cog in the system doesn’t begin to describe it. If you’ve seen the movie Brazil (and if you haven’t, what’s up with that?), you likely know how I feel, but don’t worry, I’m actually taking the ‘alternate ending’ version of the movie; yeah, the happy one. So I’m off, having done my time and learned some things here, while working with ‘some’ very cool, bright people. Here’s a parting shot of the view from my cube, utilizing my new camera phone:

The Office

Yes, if you look at it in person it seems to go on and on forever. Some would say I was not a name, but just a number, but that is incorrect, I was a bunch of numbers. Here is all of my identification strings connected to me while employed there, all info that I needed to provide numerous times:

01172005 N1046 6017 124376 12921 368408

I’m sure it helps that I’ve been listening to the soundtrack for Fight Club all day to help keep things in perspective, after all, “You’re not your job. You’re not how much money you have in the bank. You’re not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You’re not your fucking khakis. You’re the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.” So as they say, “So long, and thanks for all the fish

 
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