As I drove into work on the dreaded Monash this morning, the car slowed, painfully so… for the longest time.
There was an accident. I shook my head. I was going to be late.
As I walked into work the drizzle intensified, cascading down over my face. I couldn’t help my amused smile. Thanks for the lovely send off Docklands.
And then as I started up my computer, two programs weren’t working… I had to call IT.
All on my very last day of work.
It was finally HERE.
It was the weirdest sensation. I felt anxious and intensely nervous through most of the day. Things were emphasised to me at every turn… when I went up a lift “this will be my last time travelling to level 3.” When I scraped my bowl of its weetbix residue… “this will be my last dish from this kitchen.”
When I locked my locker for the last time.
When I logged off my computer for the last time.
Even going upstairs for a break with my colleagues got me over-sentimental. I in fact stopped going up for tea years ago, back when I started my morning coffee walks instead, and then there was the whole writing-at-the-desk-during-any-break thing…
I had to force myself to breathe. Pause. Reflect.
Many things made me feel better.
Firstly, this was not I, and I alone leaving. It was all of us. Our entire department and so many more. I was the second last of our team to leave, and so many had already walked my steps, felt my dis-ease, the discomfort and the bittersweet emotions at leaving.
It had happened to ALL my colleagues. My friends.
Secondly.… well change. It is inevitable. If this hadn’t happened now, we would have all been content in just going through the motions, the routine of work that we know like the back of our hand, becoming complacent in our roles and not expanding our mind and life journey with new learnings, adventures and places to see, people to meet.
There is so much to see. So many people to meet.
Memories flooded back to me as I looked around. The people I had seen come, and go. The places where secrets were shared. The darting looks and cheeky glances. The meltdowns. The showdowns. The ups, and downs.
Almost 12 years of my life.
I got my last coffee with a colleague… and today it was necessary to get dessert. Sure I had leftover cake from the weekend at home…
But it was my LAST DAY EVER. Screw that.
It was sublime.
As I sent off a billion emails to my personal email, going through folders and deleting files here, there and everywhere, the feeling of anxiety grew.
I was deleting, and removing any remnants of me, from my locker… my desk… my entire email account. 1000s upon 1000s made their way into the graphic rubbish can on screen.
And my anxiety grew.
I was forgetting something. I met with HR. Got my papers. Went through more emails. Checked my lists… again. Went through my empty locker… again.
I had done everything I had to… and yet there was the strongest urge that I had forgotten something.
And just like that, at the acknowledgment of my lost feeling, I realised.
I felt like I was forgetting something, because a piece of me was going to remain there, even after I walked out the doors.
You can’t just flick a switch. Walk out without turning back. Expect to not have a memory lingering. Some laughter floating through the halls.
You can’t do it. Not after so long. Not after having created some of the best memories with the best people you could ask for.
You couldn’t, just, forget.
With that in mind, knowing I was going to have to leave a piece of me behind…. I walked out.
And instead of the grey morning and drizzle I had walking in with, now there was sunshine.
There was a new adventure waiting for me.
And it’s a bit hard for me to believe now, so early… but I think it will be even better than this one.
And that’s because of my lucky number. Numbers. Because I have lots. And it’s not just 7.