How was your last day of work?

I quit a job before I literally had a nervous breakdown and I must say, my last day was like this HUGE sigh of relief.

Another time, I was fired the day after I told my boss I was pregnant, and I had no idea it was to be my last day. It came as a complete shock and I was told to pack my things and leave. It was a horrible last day. I still want to slap that woman for 1. being such an evil bitch and 2. making me cry.

Well, I’m being made redundant in February next year…. am dreading the final day. Thinking of pulling a sicky actually.
There’s only 1 or 2 people that I can see myself staying in touch with. The others, all nice people and all, but I have no desire to keep in contact with them all. I just want to move on…
I think the atmosphere is different when people are made redundant. No parties or leaving drinks (thankfully) as it’s a bit insensitive.

The last job I left, I left voluntarily – about six times! I originally quit in the February, but they kept asking me back for “just one more week”. Apparently my replacement was kind of rubbish, and the two other staff that I worked with really wanted me back. In the end I couldn’t spare the time for two jobs, even both part time, so I eventually told then “No more!” By this time it was Easter.

My department was relocated after 30 years. My last day was sad. People came by my cube all morning, leaving gifts, flowers, candy, pictures, etc. They had a pizza lunch for me and a few of the girls shed a few tears. I didn’t. Not then. I gathered my stuff up and a couple other people helped me. As I left, everyone lined up and shook my hand as I left. I felt like Billy Jack from the movie where he was in the police car being taken away and the whole town lined up on both sides of the street. I cried when I drove out of the building.

I stay in contact with about 8 of my co-workers. I meet them for lunch about once a month and I meet them separately for dinner or go to their homes. These people are my friends. I’ve worked with them for years.

After 44 years as a police officer, my last day at work was a joyous day. i arrived at my precinct in plain clothes and had no intentions of arresting anyone on this day. after all, it was my time to “let the bucket down”, as we described retirement.

I was given a party, a gift card, and a new Glock 40 as my gift for all my years of service. i was happy. its hard to say goodbye to men and women you have known for so many years and have put your trust in them to back you on police calls.

That was Dec.31, 2008. i left with a smile on my face and i still have it.

August 30, 2004. Retired from State Farm Ins Co after working for 25 years. Retired at age 57 and never worked but two months since then. I did some work in New Orleans on hurricane Katrina. (two months)

I don’t remember anything about leaving my first job. I was happy to be on my way back to school.

My first real long-term full-time job lasted for 8 years. I left quietly, without telling anyone but the boss. I just took a few personal things in a bag, picked up my potted plant, and departed without a word. No good-bye, nothing. Three days later I moved out of state. I’ve always regretted doing it that way.

Except for the one time that my boss came to my house on a holiday and fired me, all my other departures have been voluntary and cheerfully cordial, usually with a party or farewell luncheon.

The last time was my actual (early) retirement a little over a year ago. Over a period of several days I carried out boxes. On the last day, I put a few final things into a box, handed in my laptop computer and badge, and exited. I had written a funny poem in anticipation of the event (I was one of many who had opted for an “enhanced” retirement package on the same date), and as I went out the door for the last time, I recited the ending of the poem aloud to myself.

And then, as the door swung shut and latched electronically behind me, barring my badgeless return, I exhaled the last of corporate air and inhaled freedom.

All the way down the road between building after building after building of this huge corporation, I waved good-bye and called out to each one (“Bye, Building 30…bye, Building 13…bye, Building 11…6…3…8…”) and then turned the corner, literally and figuratively. When I got home I screamed as I walked in the door: “I’m free!”

That was my last day.

I do some freelance work now as an independent professional, but I will never inhabit a cubicle again as long as I live.

Oh, btw, the last day was very joyful. I left that blgd. with a huge smile on my face. I mean, 25 years of getting abused on a daily bases…yep, I was a happy man.

My last day was joyous to me. After 30 years working for the City, I was overjoyed to leave. Working conditions were getting to be brutal. Bosses and co-workers had bad attitudes. I tried to leave quietly but a few of my friends had other ideas, they had a last day of work party for me at a club where we partied, ate, and drank until closing. Didn’t bother me none, I didn’t have to go to work the next day. :D

My last job was as a receptionist at an ophthalmologist’s office. I worked there for a little over a year and had to quit to be a full time nursing student. The program I was enrolled in was very time-consuming and rigorous and left no room for work. They knew about 7 months beforehand that I was leaving. I was actually really sad to leave my co-workers. There were 4 of us girls and we all got along great. I still talk to them once and awhile, but not as much as I’d like. As for my last day, it was sad but also exciting. I was starting a new chapter of my life with school, though I’m going a different route with it now, and I was ready to move on.

Most of my jobs that I have left were because I was moving or not getting along well. I gave my two weeks notice, and then on the last day, I went home and moved on from there. There was nothing to it.

One exception to that was when I had my last child. The company I worked for was relocating, and they offered six weeks severance to everyone who stayed until the last day. I was 8 months pregnant, and they told me I would get my six weeks pay, but please don’t come back anymore.

I have never really had a last day, because when I quit working at an outside job, that meant I have more time to do work at home, and that is a never ending job.

The first job I quit was because they refused to give me a raise. On the last day, they sent me to New Orleans to meet with a client, with one of the VPs of the company. After I was gone they lost two of their biggest accounts that I worked with; one was a piece of business that they had for 30 years. No, I did not take the business with me; both clients complained that the attention given to their accounts declined dramatically after I left. They really should have agreed to pay me more money.

I’m both dreading and looking forward to my last day at this job (My first). It might be this fall, because I’ll be starting college classes and need every waking moment for school, or it might be in a few years when I actually move to college. It’s a good job and I have no intention to foul it up, so the only reason I would leave that job is if the new pharmacy in town takes all our business. That would be really sad. This pharmacy has been here for 30+ years, and the pharmacist has been there just as long (he owns the place). He’s watched every kid in town grow up.