Cooling one's heels

As I strolled in to work today, I realised that I have only thirteen more days of this: thirteen more days of waking some time between 7.00 and 7.45 am, of taking the train cross-island with the morning rush hour suits, of clipping on my security pass so that the guards at the elevator lobby won't harrass me, of sinking into my little nest of a cubicle and clicking on the computer. Who'd've thought I'd get sentimental about this gray stonewall of a fortress?

Didn't have much to do this morning, so I cleared out one heap of paper. Three heaps to go, and a bunch of files to pass on to people taking over the different areas of my work, before the desk's wiped clean, anonymous, blank. Since we don't have a car, I'll have to orchestrate a cab ride to bring home all my personal odds'n'ends --- or maybe just gradually take small bags of things with me everyday during my last week here.

Last Friday, I bought cake for the office, a newish farewell tradition started by EH before she left. There was Lana chocolate cake (to satisfy my months-long craving), a cheesecake from NYDC and an ice cream cake from Swensen's. So everyone got to start the weekend on a sugar high and/or with new cavities. Sadly, I wasn't going straight home that night, so I couldn't bag the remainder Lana cake. I magnanimously handed it off to colleagues who have children instead --- I'm all about equal opportunity tooth decay, I tell ya.


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