Last Day/First Day

It's 9:38. This is what will happen. I will make a phone call to my counterpart on the east coast and fill her in on everything I've been doing so that she can take on my workload. It's not a whole lot, a handful of positions, none particularly challenging. I'll ping my boss and let her know that I've had that conversation. She'll wish me luck, confirm that I submitted my final timesheet , tell me that of course I can use her as a reference. I won't tell her that the Universe willing I won't need to. I'll thank her for the opportunity and for her support. I'll then clean out my desk. It won't take long. I have some papers and a picture of Lucas and Zoe. I'll think about this: that with each successive job I've left, I've packed up fewer and fewer things. I'll remember the first time I was laid off. There were dozens of books, about HR stuff, management, and there was a small book of Zen quotes. I was burning with remorse and terror. The Zen book helped. There was a quote, "I like freedom. It tastes of bread." It was comforting even though I had no idea what it meant. I do now. I'll remember how the two boxes of stuff - books, files, pictures, mugs and keychains with company logos - became one big box with the next job, one smaller box with the next, and I will smile at the manilla folder that holds the remnants of my work, of me, really, the me that existed in this cube for the past nine months. The Office Me. Perhaps the one or two people I had the occasional conversation with during my time here will stop by to say goodbye. I'm not even sure they know I'm leaving. I'm sure I'm not going to find them to tell them. I will think funny thoughts as I do all of this - rework a Springsteen song, "it's a building fulla losers and I'm pullin' outta here to wiiiiiin....", of what lies ahead I'll take comfort in a line from a movie I saw back in sixth grad - "try not, do, or do not, there is no try".  I'll erase personal info from my work computer so that no trace of me is left here. I won't even be a memory. Reports will continue to be filed and databases will continue to be updated and inboxes will continue to fill. And when I get out of my chair and step through that exit door, it won't feel like falling, it will feel like flying.