This corner office has a great view of the front parking lot and stoplight and lots of built in shelving. It is a one of a kind property with uniquely oblique walls on the north side and half a pillar in the northeast wall, but with creative furniture placement can have overall good flow. Lots of sunlight in the morning. Located at a crucial intersection between RA and RW, but with quiet neighbors. No mold or leaks, although one window pane traps dampness when it rains. Not just one but two AC units. Previous occupant wishes you well.
So. Stick a fork in me for I am done. Tomorrow is the first day of my retirement, and it will be grand. For the past few days, while writing a manual and editing a file for data delivery, I have cleared out my office. I didn’t want my last day at this place to be panicked with packing and frustration.
Over the past weeks I recycled pounds of paper. On that paper was a lot that I had created, designed, originated, and written over the past 39 years, most of it obsolete now, replaced by technical changes and by youngsters who have to learn by doing, just as I had to, decades ago. That paper represented experience, and it is a curious feeling to throw away experience. But it is only in the physical sense that it was I who threw it away. (Post-publication editorial/explainer: the socioeconomic model of doing business now is to shed experience in favor of cheap labor.) I lived in that particular office 5 days a week for more than 15 years, and worked for that organization for 39 years. I know, it will be interesting not going back there next Tuesday morning. But I know it won’t be painful.
This morning, a gladiolus bloomed, late but appreciated. Since the neighborhood deer have not discovered and eaten it yet, I snapped a photo. And then because I was there, I captured the marigolds again – what a wonderful flower that is — and the astilbe that decided to bloom a second time, and the pot of impatiens my sister planted for me when I was recovering from knee replacements. So. We’ll see what can happen to a garden when the gardener can give it the attention it needs.