Fare Thee Well

This was my office when I walked in this morning. The grand sweeping desk was gone. The two credenzas were gone. The office chair, the two visitor chairs and the 42 inch bulletin board were all gone. Can I confess it was a bit of a shock at first? It was. But I had a deadline from my boss that had to be met so I really didn't need furniture. I plopped my ample ass on the floor, hooked up my computer and sat cross legged on the floor. I started to work.

The Man in Plaid came in and seeing me sprawled out on the floor tapping away on my laptop, erupted in a fit of laughter that I didn't know he was capable of. I thought I might need to call the paramedics. Finally he said, "I don't think I could ever imagine The Pilgrim [my predecessor] doing that. No. Not ever!" The dude practically had a coronary laughing. As he walked off, I could hear him laughing all the way down the hall.

I continued tracking down the details for my boss while lounging on the floor of my now empty office. Unexpectedly, The Arctic Fox walked in and bade me hello. "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked (sadly, this has become my sole Turret's expression which is involuntarily hurled at anyone who walks in the office who isn't here every day of the week. Christ, I have to work on that). She had a comparable reaction to my floor lounging/working. And to my horror, she whipped out and documented it with a digital camera. She informed me it would be shared with the staff (and perhaps my personnel file--liner notes said: "she was an eccentric person"). It was a lark, of course, so I enjoyed the light mood.

A deadline completed, I got drawn into a conference call. And then another. And office doors had to be shut during them because, well, there were 35 union workers packing up and moving out our office while we were disputing prioritization of online initiatives for one of our brands. When we heard the soft humming whir of machinery start, with bleating eyes I appealed to the Digital Wizard to end the calls so we could attend to the last of the packing. Bless him, he saw my silent facial desperation and did so.

Staggering from this meeting with labor movers swarming all around us, I ran into Ophelia, the office manager. A normally nervous woman, this move has converted her into a frantic shell of a woman. I was briefed by the VP of HR on the small but salient details needed to ensure a smooth move; relaying these very simple, succinct and timely bits to Ophelia was another story. She can be hysterical when she hears there are more than five cars on I-95 South.

And just when I thought I was all packed and ready to go, Ophelia reminded me that there were nine very large lateral files that The Pilgrim maintained outside his office. Sweet Jesus!! Purging them (that is, pulling out confidential info for shredding and pulling trademark, lease, HR detail, etc separately to keep on file) was going to take hours. I started to purge. A short while later, I was really hungry. I think it was around 1:20 pm.

As if on cue, The Man in Plaid came over to re-review our financial projections. Our numbers agreed on with supporting narratives, he expressed the need for lunch and he invited me for a quick bite out at Jake's. Well yes, I could use some food.

We went for a quick Reuben sandwich and chat before returning to the Armageddon of the office move. I had several messages from the boss which I responded to immediately. The files still needed purging. 95% of the staff had left for the day. Boxes were being wheeled out. Computer equipment was being bagged. Ophelia was atwitter with nervous energy.

We got through the last of the purging. We loaded cars. We cleaned up this, that and the other. Only seven of the staff were left (me, The Fisherman, The Man in Plaid, Liz Taylor, The Gecko, Ophelia and Quasimodo). I took one last long look at my office---a space that I enjoyed working in. I personally expressed thanks to all the movers laboring in the bitter cold. I thanked my remaining colleagues and made my way to I-95.

Our new office space is bright and fresh and sleek. It is uber-modern. It's so pretty that I'm afraid I will mess something up. Yet, may I say (after only 2 years, or 20% of the occupancy tenure in our old office) that I will sort of miss our old space. It was homey in an old shoe kind of way. I daresay I was slightly nostalgic as I drove out of the parking lot tonight for the final time. And dontcha know, there was a full moon afoot.

Monday will be a brand new day.Here's some pictures from moving day.