Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Last day

“I think I’m going to buy some of those diet chips”, Diane says.

I prop my bare feet on the edge of her desk and cross my ankles. “Make sure you read the bag carefully. Some of those diet and sugar free foods can cause anal leakage.”

She throws back her head and laughs, the sound echoing down the corridor. I smile and shake my head as she launches into a story about a woman that had to have her asshole reconstructed, due to her penchant for taking the dirt road. I’m going to miss these daily dicking-off fests more than I originally thought. And I’m going to miss her.

I remember the first time I sat in this chair, in her horribly messy office, wearing a brightly striped sweater, black skirt and black old lady pumps. I was a nineteen year old kid with a month old baby at home and I had no idea what I was doing. Diane sat me down, explained the job, spent a half hour gossiping and then showed me around the suite.

I immediately wanted to work here, not even considering the corporation as a whole...just this little area where the work space rang with laughter and the halls smelled of coffee and someone’s breakfast burrito. It was my first “real” job.

But though the woman who hired me is my supervisor, she’s never been just a boss. From the day I interviewed until this moment, this last day we get to sit here together as employee and employer, she’s also been my friend, mother and psychiatrist.

She cosigned for my first loan to help me establish credit, she made cakes on my birthdays and sat drinking wine with me all night on her living room floor. Just recently, when I had to go to the doctor for what was apparently vertigo, she came, without asking, in sweats and tennis shoes on her day off. Just in case I needed someone to hold my hand and drive me home.

She’s lectured me, made me listen to the same stories over and over again, occasionally irritated me so much that I wanted to scream...but I love her. She gave me a job, she gave me a chance and she’s continuously put up with all of my tardiness, grouchiness and immaturity.

And now, after weeks of wondering and waiting, the day has finally come. The transition from old job to new will be complete tomorrow, when I pack up the last box and they cart it two blocks away. I’ve been excited about taking a step up the career ladder, about more money and more opportunities to grow and learn. I’ve been excited about my new chair and my new title, about rubbing elbows with presidents and COO’s. Excited and a little terrified, but not sad. Not until now. Not until it really hit me that in order to grow up and move up, I’ll have to give up a few things too.

This is the last time I’ll sit around with no makeup on and a frizzy ponytail, barefoot and relaxed in the privacy of an office that’s more like home. The last time I’ll dance on tiptoe around her door and primp in front of her mirror to make her laugh. The last time I’ll drink coffee and shoot the shit for an hour in the mornings. The last time I’ll wear flip flops and leggings, play games when no one is looking and close my door for an hour with a current bestseller.

And perhaps the saddest thing of all, right up there with saying good bye to her and other coworkers I’ve come to think of as family - this is the last time I’ll sit at this desk and write.

23 comments:

JUST ME said...

But then you'll sit at another desk and write - because that's what you do. Obviously. This is basically what you were born to do, even if you're just realizing it now. :)

Congrats on the new job!! Transitions are not always easy, but you deserve more - more money, responsibility and dare I say it - MORE FAME!

Balanced Idjit said...

well, a new environment is like having a new perspective and a new outlook...you even may find your writing changes in a positive way. And that will probably be just fine with you. We look forward to seeing what the coming days/months have in store for you!

BugginWord said...

But think how many new faces of horror you'll get to see when your cell phone fills the hall with its *cough* ringtone.

The Vegetable Assassin said...

It's true. We've all been there. But YAY, you're moving UP, girl. I mean we knew you were important, now everyone does. Well done! And good luck.

jill hamilton said...

you had me at 'anal leakage.'

good luck and beautifully said...

jill
http://inbedwithmarriedwomen.blogspot.com

wondertwins said...

If i were you I'd never budge from this job ever. but what do i know right? I'm only 17.


I love all your posts, and this made me cry because it reminded me of my secondary school. If i had my way things would never change in my life and the people i love would be around me 24/7. distance and time is a bitch

Nari said...

Anal reconstruction huh...does that only happen to women? If not, those surgeries must be pretty common, at least on the down low...heh

But, as usual I digress. Change is great. Especially positive and productive change but it still sucks sweaty hairy balls at the same damn time.

Congratulations or your promotion!

David Henderson said...

Thanks, now I suddenly have the thought of Robert Frost's poem being rewritten as, "The dirt road not taken."


"Two dirt roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."

That nasty bastard!

Congrats on the new job. (on a paved road, I hope).

jerrod said...

Perfect last sentence.

I can't wait to hear about the new adventures.

Sharon Longworth said...

Beautifully done. I wish you all the luck in the world with your new job - I look forward to the writing from your new desk.

Thug in a Cocktail Dress said...

I'll be debbie downer...
I've been here...where you're at...except instead of mother like figure it was my best friend. Life was never the same after that. Distance is a bitch, even at a couple blocks down the street. the morning long coffee breaks to "therapize" each other are wonders for the soul and i hate to tell you, absolutely nothing can replace that time spent "therapizing" and catching each other up on your dramatic lives. So while everyone else deams a congratulatory farewell, I say, life won't ever be the same.

Sarah P said...

I just left my job, too, and with it an industry I love.

Unfortunately, the boss I was loyal to for seven years stopped talking to me after I gave my notice and didn't even say goodbye. Thank God for all the other wonderful people I worked with for getting me shitfaced on my last night.


GOOD LUCK!!

Baglady said...

Will you be able to get visiting rights? Because I'll bet you she'll miss you as much as you'll miss her.

Lady Jennie said...

Good luck on your new job!

Honestly I've worked in a few offices in Manhattan, and no matter how posh, they all soon become home.

(sleeping on the sofa in the CEO's room because I was pregnant, sick and miserable, etc)

nova said...

Oh my gosh I totally know what you mean, leaving a good comfortable job kind of feels like you're breaking up with somebody!

IT IS ALLY said...

I love your blog! I always know a new post is going to be a good story. You may consider this a marriage proposal, if your current place of residence allows that sort of thing.

Eric said...

Later!

Storycollector said...

Good luck!!

bikinfool said...

You ARE going to write from your new desk, right? Don't make me come down there and chain your ass to your desk at lunch time and make you write. Type. What ever. We'll all get the DT's.

Still - congrats on the promotion. Better pay is always a good thing.

Sara said...

I've missed you so much. And your blog. Congratulations on the new job! I hope it's exciting and fun and that you still get to sit barefoot at your desk because that really is a wonderful thing. :)

T. Roger Thomas said...

I agree with jerrod's comment about the last sentence.

bbonnieblue said...

I enjoy this side of you...congrats and don't forget your friends two blocks away. My first corporate boss died this summer. He was a caring, at times crabby, mentor who knew I should finish college and helped me move up and on. I earned my degree because he believed in me and cared about me until the day he died. RIP Fred! Your friend, boss sounds similar - lucky you too!

lorna said...

very witty blog!