I just got into the office for my last day here. I know I've been crawling out of my skin to get home, but I couldn't help feeling a little nostalgic on the drive. "Goodbye, big neon Venky's Chicken In Minutes sign! Goodbye, statue of a head on top of a pile of rocks! Goodbye, herd of cows in the intersection! Goodbye, little boy trying to sell me a newspaper every morning! Goodbye, big fat river! Goodbye, Hork OK Please trucks! Goodbye, Eggs Are Mother Nature's Gift to Mothers billboard! Goodbye, ladies riding motorcycles sidesaddle!"
And then I heard an ad on the radio for an apartment complex -- for more information, call nine eight triple two oh three eight six double oh, or something like that, but it made me start thinking about phone numbers. And I realized that it's pretty easy to remember the ten digits in New York, because really the 646, 718, 917, 212 area codes? They all pretty much count as just one digit in my head. And then I had the thought that tomorrow? I get to dial a 917 number? And I suddenly got SO EXCITED, like five-year-old-on-Christmas-Eve-and-tomorrow-I-get-to-open-my-new-Superman-pajamas excited, that I made my big EEEEEE!! face and started laughing in the car. For an area code. The driver thinks I'm weird.
I think it's time to get on that plane now. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! I love going home!!!