With apologies to Kubler-Ross

The last week is always the hardest. After 13 weeks i've gone through the 5 steps - denial that i'm actually walking into a new place, anger that they're still talking about bedside triage, bargaining that if i finish this night without screaming I can have a chocolate bar and coke on the way home. Then of course there's the mid contract blues - rehashing all the bad decisions, the lame co-workers, the questioning of night hours (am I just an anti social bitch?) but then that last week it's all forgotten with the pre nostalgia of leaving; they're a great team, they're fun, I laughed so hard I peed. And then it's done - scurrying out the door to avoid one last shift change cluster fuck, a smile as I start to savor the 17 days off (ostensibly the reason I travel but really it's the socially acceptable cover for my lack of commitment and incredible disinterest in becoming "part of the team").
But then I get home and read the reference a nurse writes for me and I think was this the one?; the one place that could be IT - the golden job of fulfilling work, meaningful relationships and belly laughs? I pause and then unsheath the sword to slay the knight in shining armour once again.