
This tactic takes you only so far--six or seven years, maybe; eight, at best--and by the time you see the writing on the wall, you are pleasantly surprised to find that with the realization of your job's finality comes a sense of freedom. At long last, everybody else has gotten wise to what you knew from the beginning: you are utterly and hopelessly incapable of handling your professional responsibilities. There are papers to be signed and formalities to be dealt with, of course, so you'll have to stick around for a few months--but those are the months during which you can finally be yourself. A time that you can relax, use up your remaining sick days and vacation days, doing whatever the heck you want...all on the company's tab.
And when you're on the final leg of your all-expenses-paid vacation, perhaps in some exotic locale that you couldn't find on a map if your life depended on it, the reality of your situation finally hits you: you've got nothing left to prove, and no reason to hold yourself back. So, emboldened by alcoholic beverages and/or hard drugs and/or intense prayer, you decide to let it all it out, tell anyone who will listen what you really think. Maybe it doesn't fit with the company line, but it makes sense on a deeper, much more important level. It's what's right, in the big picture.
If you've ever done such a thing, good for you. Your expression was well deserved.
That is unless you were, at the time, the President of the United States...in which case you're an idiotic jackoff of an unprecedented degree who could have only done such a thing to mock your own country, every country on Earth and all of humanity.
(...and probably mostly your dad.)
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