It’s Tuesday. I Don’t Care.

 It’s Tuesday.

Somewhere, someone’s pretending it matters. Hustling through spreadsheets. Nodding in meetings. Making their boss feel important. Bless their hearts.

Me? I just don’t care.

Not today. Not this Tuesday. Not when Friday is my last day on this corporate merry-go-nowhere. The calendar says I’ve got a few more days to “wrap things up,” but let’s be honest — I mentally wrapped this up a couple of  months ago. I’m just here now out of some twisted sense of duty... and maybe for the free coffee; only I work from home.

Am I bitter? Nah. Just honest. Brutally, unapologetically honest. The kind of honesty that comes with being old enough to know the game and bald enough not to bother combing over the truth.

I’ve given decades to this system. Showed up, cleaned up messes I didn’t make, carried weight others ignored. And now, with three days left, I’m supposed to smile through the “we’ll miss you” emails and awkward hallway small talk? Nah. I’m good.

Here’s the deal: I’m not retiring. I’m just done here. I’ve got wings that still work, and it’s about time I used them. There are other things calling — things that actually matter to me.

So yeah. It’s Tuesday. But not for long.

Come Friday, I’m out. No fanfare. No fake speeches. Just a quiet exit and a big grin.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some not-caring to get back to.

— Still Old. Still Bold. Definitely Bald. And Very Much Done.