Some days I wonder how something good can be so sad. How something happy can feel so suffocating. I wonder how something beautiful can be so broken and how something big can feel so small. Dogs are kind of like that. Humans are definitely like that. Today was like that.
I got a new job, and it was my last day at the old one. I’ve been there for years, and I’ve experienced so much with my co-workers…with my friends. It hurts to say goodbye. I’m not good at walking away from something—or someone(s)—I love. It’s a lot like our foster dog, Miss Angi. She’s like the light in a sometimes dark and uncomfortable world. She’s been abused, but she’s so beautiful. I learn something new from her every day. And, she loves me—no matter how broken I am. One day I will have to say goodbye to Miss Angi, too. And, in some small way, I imagine that day will feel like today.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited for this next journey. I know I’m doing the right thing—for myself and for my team. It’s time for someone else to be the senior technical writer, and it’s time for me to move on. I know I will feel lost for a little while. I know I will wish I had my boss with me to coach me through the hard times. And, truly, how many people can actually say that? I worked with a group of people who, despite our differences, helped me to grow in so many ways. All of them touched my life one way or another…some more than others.
At the end of the day, we had a meeting. Before the meeting began, one of my teammates brought in a cake. But, this was no ordinary cake. Oh no. This cake was special. If there were ever a group of people who could make me laugh and cry at the same time, it’s these guys.
Today, I realized that I left one of the most important parts of my life to date. We can pretend things don’t affect us, but really, if we’re alive, they do. I know I’m sensitive sometimes. But, I try really hard to appreciate life, because I never know how long I will be here to live it. I drive like I’m being chased by the police, and I make stupid mistakes—over, and over, and over. Some weeks I have panic-inducing anxiety for days and nights on end. Other weeks, like this one, I feel strong and confident. Either way, I feel, a lot. And, I want all of you to feel it when I tell you that each and every one of you have changed me for the better.
Knowing you has given me irreplaceable memories and lessons I never knew I needed. It was time to say goodbye. And, I fucking hated it. But, you know what, it showed me how much I gained just from being in your lives. To those of you who truly impacted my life, and you know who you are, I will never find the words to express how much I cherished our time together. Sometimes we were broken. Sometimes my car was broken. Usually I was broken. Sometimes we laughed too loud and the office doors around us would slam, as if to say, shut the fuck up, you happy mother fuckers. Other days we would sit in silence, clicking away at our keyboards to finish a slew of projects with looming deadlines. Usually I would eventually interrupt the silence with an antidote about dogs or Hillary Clinton or mammograms. Sometimes you probably wanted to punch me in the face, like that time I cried and stomped around for two weeks after a Cheeto-man baby won the election. And, sometimes, I could tell you were happy to hear my unbelievable—but freakishly true—stories about burned warehouses (I didn’t burn them, someone else did), police interrogations (I didn’t do it, someone else did), and three separate car accidents (yep, that was all me).
Lord knows I am not your usual, run-of-the-mill cubicle dweller, but if I ever had to choose a group of people to share a 15’x20’ (Sorry Nate, I know we agreed we would always spell these things out) office space with, it would be you guys. Every damn time. Working with you was like sitting with the cool kids at lunch…because everyone wanted to sit at our table. And, who could really blame them? we’re pretty fucking awesome.
From the bottom of my heart…thank you for everything. Maybe one day we can take those flying trapeze lessons we always talked about. Until then, don’t forget your oxford commas, and I will try my best not to split my infinitives.
P.S. Please don’t let Nigel Thornberry anywhere near that website. Lol.