monoceros blogs
Friday was my last day at work. I'm still an employee at the Press, but that only means I'm getting paid till the end of the month. By Friday evening, the desk was cleared, sufficient photos were taken, and I sent my last email from the office account. *sob*
Of course, I've conveniently forgotten all the I-need-to-yank-my-hair-out-or-kill-someone moments and remembered only the damn-I-like-working-here parts. I had a big desk and fast computer (forget about the CRT screen that played no small part in the increasing levels of my myopia), I worked on the second level of a nicely refurbished shophouse (never mind the lack of windows and natural lighting), I had a nice neighbor called Barney (I'll forgive him for his constant Word or Excel queries), there was can't-get-any-more-local-than-this food from the Chinatown market (I'll close one eye to the ever-present crazy characters and spit that booby-trapped the path I took to the market each day) and a good CD shop with quirky titles and low prices (never mind that the shopkeeper doesn't speak English. She smiles, and that's better than perfect English).
Two Thursdays ago, on the fateful day of my interview at the Embassy, I returned to the office to a homey lunch setting in the large storeroom of the office. Several of my colleagues had planned a different kind of lunch for a quiet Thursday. Different in the sense that we sat round a table and shared dishes ordered from the coffeeshop next door (we were also using the chairs from the shop).
After lunch, I darted to the pantry for some Chinese tea and returned to the storeroom to be surprised by two large giftboxes and a camera flash. Farewell presents! The only good thing to come out of leaving a company (okay, there are other good things, like being freed from stress and responsibility - temporarily)! Karen darted around like a paparazzai photographer, and everyone watched intently as I opened my presents. I had to confess that I was very moved, although I may not have convinced anyone because of my nature to be very expressionless when people do nice things for me (I don't know why). Benny kept egging me to cry, but I told him to be quiet. It was a good day that day.
Friday was rushed, too short and too sad. By the time I left the office, there was only Gina and Annie, the editor-in-training from India. Gina was particularly quiet and emotionless, and so was I. I expect we both didn't want to get into any histronics. I said my goodbyes and turned off the lights on the editorial side of the office floor. Before I stepped out the door, I turned to look at my desk, a large shape caught in shadows. It looked exactly the way it did on my first day on May 2, 2001. Vast, empty and waiting to be filled. Not by me this time.
Goodbye, Cambridge!
"I think really Vanessa preferred slipping off quietly in the end," said her colleague,
"Don't be too troubled. She'll be all right now. She left a packet for you.
There it is!"
The colleague took the envelope from the bookshelf, and glanced at it,but did not open it.
"You'll find her proofs and all the other documents in there, I think,"
said the wizard.
"You are the master of upstairs now. And also, I fancy, you'll find a primary course."
Best wishes on your new journey.