Going away present

I have two weeks left at my job. Sad isn't a strong enough word to describe how I feel about it. Forlorn maybe. It's not a bad thing. I am really excited about the next phase in my life, and I think my sadness about leaving is a testament to how wonderful my last five years have been and how happy I have been at my job. I work with the kindest and most loyal people imaginable. I'm at an age where most of my friends have a job for one or two years, an apartment for one or two years, and then move to the next thing, be that a new city, grad school, new job, whatever. But I was lucky enough to find a great life right after college, one that I wanted to stick with as long as reasonable. And the time has come to move on. And I am ready, but I am sad to let go too. I've always been pretty sentimental. Once when I was younger (though old enough that it was weird), my mom sold a car that she owned for a really long time. I sat in the garage with the car and sobbed for hours. I grow attached very easily and perhaps leaving a job or an apartment reminds me of all the other things that might also get left behind intentionally or unintentionally. To save this post from entering the overly sappy category, I leave you with the parting gift my building gave to me today. Three pigeons on my office windowsill doing it. A pigeon orgy. It was a sight to behold, one that I have never witnessed before, and I really wish I would have cleaned my windows at some point this year so that my pictures would have been less obscured. Actually, I didn't get a photo of them humping, they got camera shy and stopped. But I do have a photo of their post-coital chilling. I couldn't ask for a more appropriate send off.

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