all the best

I’m feeling moody and reflective—waves of emotion washing over me from one hundred different directions as I prepare to emancipate myself from the shackles of my quotidian woes.

I’ve been saying it for a while, but everything that is meant to happen will—and everything that is supposed to happen does. Take that thought with a spoonful of triteness if you’d like—but my life so far has proved that to be the case. Everything I do, and every person I encounter has lead me quite specifically to something or somewhere else. I won’t bore you with the details of how I arrived at point b from point a…but life is really all about the journey.

I’m grateful for the past (almost) four years I’ve been hunkered down in Issaquah because I’ve met people who will be indispensible to me for the rest of my life (certain adult children excluded). I have amassed memories that are good, bad, and embarrassing. It’s vain, I know—but I can’t help but wonder how and if I’ll be remembered. Will people miss me? Will my co-workers cast longing glances at my empty cube space and wonder what I’m up to? Will those familiar strangers with whom I’ve never spoke but always shared a friendly smile wonder what’s become of me? I was trying to work through these musings with my girlfriend Stephanie while we were out at coffee and she summed it up in the most brazen way- but I’m not sure that I agree: “If I left the office today no one would give a crap (edited for public consumption). And you know what? Neither would I.”

In life, I try to leave a positive impact wherever I go: whether it’s bringing levity to a situation, offering advice, or simply complimenting a friend’s outfit (I’m really good at this). As I move on to this next chapter I’m sure an entirely new cast of characters will unfurl before me in a rich tapestry but in the interim I wanted to note how appreciative I am of every foil thus far. To all those who I’ve known and may never know again—I wish them all the best.

keeping it classy

It's not often we're lucky enough to catch a glimpse of our co-worker's true feelings for us. Today, that fortuitous moment came for me when a co-worker (a 37 year old adult child) inadvertently sent an email about me....to me. It could not have come at a more perfect time considering the fact that I'm on my way out the door in t minus three work days. I'll let the email correspondence speak for itself, for fear I'll say too much and might sour its brilliance.

And now, for your enjoyment....Take a peek at the glorious inner-workings of a corporate environment.

I chose not to respond to her last bit of correspondence. I know I'm not always successful in my endeavor, but I feel as though it's important to keep it classy as much as and whenever possible. To me, seeing this was on the one hand completely hysterical, and on the other- a little disheartening. I hope I don't sound bitter in talking about this strange little passing of events

because that's not at all the case.

Receiving the aforementioned unsolicited email was a great lesson for me. I've always been a people pleaser, have wanted people to like me and would always go to great lengths to ensure that that happened. It's taken me a long time to realize that you can't please everyone and not everyone is going to like you- no matter what you do. And you know what? I'm okay with that.

words of wisdom from the cube

Leaving a post that I've been guarding for four years feels completely surreal and I still can't quite get my head around the fact that I will actually, literally be leaving. For the next installment of blog posts, I'll be dredging up the past to tell stories of my co-workers, my routines, and my life within these dilapidated cubicle walls.

I've spent much of my morning today going through drawers and packing up cube flair so that I might leave the office unfettered on my final day next week. Each picture brings up a memory, each note- a crestfallen laugh. Taped all around my computer are the below quotes, which have shepherded me through my journey here:

No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere:
I see Heaven's glories shine,
And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.
-Emily Bronte

Search others for their virtues, thyself for they vices.
-Benjamin Franklin

In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different.
-Coco Chanel

The tragedy of life is not so much what men suffer, but rather what they miss.
-Thomas Carlyle

Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way.
-Jane Austen

Find something you're passionate about and keep tremendously interested in it.
-Julia Child

*

It's funny how quotes I've accumulated from my Franklin-Covey planner through the years flow so seamlessly to one absolute truth: Live honest, live humble, live well- and lead a life with no regrets.

productivity levels are tanking....

I'm exaggerating, obviously. Anyone who knows me knows that I come from hard-working Eastern European stock and will work my tail off to the bitter end. I think it's important to walk away from something knowing that I gave it my all and can leave with my head held high.

That being said, my attention started to fade during a meeting I had this morning. I blame it on six shots of espresso-- and no, this time I'm not exaggerating.

I started remembering what Brett said a few days ago about barbecuing chicken while I was at yoga. Puff and Pi were all over him like zombies- so delicious was the smell of the cooking flesh. Before I knew it, my notes turned into the below:

A Day in the (Work) Life of a Bonne Vivante

Please note that the following piece of prose is not intended to be insinuating of any great unhappiness. Rather, it is simply intended to elicit a certain mood and offer a juxtaposition between my usual cheerful gallivanting. That being said, please enjoy....and note that any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

I am greeted with a haunting sense of familiarity every morning as I pull into the parking lot, anticipating each inconsequential action moments before performing them: This is when I turn off my headlights; This is when I finagle my water bottle off the floor and juggle it with my coffee mug that I wrangle out of its ill-fitting cup holder; This is when I bundle my two handbags and fumble to lock my door; This is when I begin trudging slowly and desolately to work.

I dodge motorists turning this way and that and pad carefully through the crosswalk glistening with rain—mindful not to slip on the white paint which seems particularly perilous. Arnie greets me with a huge smile on his face, bellows “good morning” and flips the switch so I need not negotiate my wares to flip my access badge against the wall. It’s the time of year when the walls, stairwell, and any other fixture that can facilitate accoutrements are plastered with holiday decorations. A three foot tall Nutcracker eyes me as I make my way up the stairs, the reflection of garland twinkling in his glossy wooden eyes. Crossing the walkway to my building, I longingly stare out the windows at the early morning. There’s promise in the dawn: it is crisp, fresh, hopeful and elusive. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and feel terribly incongruous with my stark surroundings. My blue and white striped cable knit Uggs appear as woolen mukluks; my sparkly multi-coloured headband alludes to a girl who thinks she’s a princess; my makeup shows too much effort for being someplace where no one either cares or notices.

Pushing through the office door, I am blinded by the neon lighting as I slink toward my desk. Unfettering myself of all my loot, I plunk down in my overstuffed La-Z-Boy office chair and turn on the glowing god at whom I must stare for the next nine hours. As he whirs and purrs, I situate my vitamins, my pens, and my calendar across my desk. After what seems like hours, I finally open Outlook Express and begin deleting all my unnecessary emails. I ensure all outstanding issues are addressed and mosey downstairs for my daily breakfast, which rarely varies: Tropical Mango Vitamin Water, multi-grain English muffin, a slice of cheddar cheese and two pieces of crispy almost burned bacon. While waiting for my muffin to toast in the decades old old-school toaster, I eyeball executives strategizing over coffee and employees milling about—wasting as much time as possible socializing around the espresso machine and condiment tables. I assemble my sandwich and head back to my desk.

The rest of the day passes in a haze of indecipherable vendor issues and inquiries. I slap on a smile and respond forthwith, pressing send-receive compulsively in anticipation of the next task presenting itself. Trips to the bathroom and water cooler are more frequent than any other employee’s since I am focused on preparing myself for the evening’s Bikram class. The monotony is no longer enchanting and begins to whittle away at my patience.

I subtly check my phone in hopes of some sort of emancipatory message from an unknown benefactor. These messages sadly do not arrive so I instead conspire with my cohorts to plan for weekend escapes and distractions.

From 2pm to 4pm I am faced with the witching hour of the day. Time slows to a halt and sits heavily and expansively on my throat as I idly shuffle papers and investigate the latest news and gossip of the day.

At long last, 4pm arrives and I hurriedly gather up my earthly wares—all but running from my desk. The computer is asleep, my desktop is clear, and my chair is carefully tucked back in. I bid farewell to my co-workers and wish them a pleasant evening, then depart and sink into the warmth of my leather car seat. I am heavy with resignation and fatigue, and shall wait for the remainder of the evening before I may truly come to life and be a Bonne Vivante once more.