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Talk Hard
Incidental Acts of Spontaneous Cerebral Violence
Friday, July 09, 2004
On the clearest of days, there's always a cumulonimbus looming
Friday evening. It's going to be a gorgeous night. They actually decided to pay me today. I'm about to leave the office for the weekend and not look back. All should be fantastic.
But.
There always has to be that fucking but.
And today's but is a solid bummer. Not life-alteringly depressing. But a downer nonetheless:
My best friend and favorite person in the office left today for maternity leave. We had a nice baby shower, I ate way too much and there were hugs and good wishes all around. I even bought flowers.
The problem with her maternity leave is that it will be permanent. She knows it. I know it. Anyone with half-a-brain knows it. As a result, my buddy, the sole consistent respite I have from the drudgery that is my day-to-day job, has left me all alone.
No longer will I be able to stop by her office on my way to the mail room or the kitchen and kill thirty minutes in the process, laughing the entire time. No longer will I have a constant im partner-in-crime, who would ALWAYS help me outlast my boss, the Sr. VP, when leaving the office. And no longer will I hear those wonderfully mundane stories about her family, her son and her life growing up in Burbank.
When you are surrounded by very few people you actually give a damn about (both in and out of the office), the ones you consider as friends are all the more extraordinary. Although I wish her only the best and certainly will see her again, I know one thing for sure:
I already miss my friend.
Friday evening. It's going to be a gorgeous night. They actually decided to pay me today. I'm about to leave the office for the weekend and not look back. All should be fantastic.
But.
There always has to be that fucking but.
And today's but is a solid bummer. Not life-alteringly depressing. But a downer nonetheless:
My best friend and favorite person in the office left today for maternity leave. We had a nice baby shower, I ate way too much and there were hugs and good wishes all around. I even bought flowers.
The problem with her maternity leave is that it will be permanent. She knows it. I know it. Anyone with half-a-brain knows it. As a result, my buddy, the sole consistent respite I have from the drudgery that is my day-to-day job, has left me all alone.
No longer will I be able to stop by her office on my way to the mail room or the kitchen and kill thirty minutes in the process, laughing the entire time. No longer will I have a constant im partner-in-crime, who would ALWAYS help me outlast my boss, the Sr. VP, when leaving the office. And no longer will I hear those wonderfully mundane stories about her family, her son and her life growing up in Burbank.
When you are surrounded by very few people you actually give a damn about (both in and out of the office), the ones you consider as friends are all the more extraordinary. Although I wish her only the best and certainly will see her again, I know one thing for sure:
I already miss my friend.