Monday's going to be weird.

It's the end of an era. After fifteen years working together, a good friend of mine is leaving for another job. Got to say, I'm kind of bummed. Don't get me wrong, I am exceedingly glad for the guy. He's starting a new chapter in his life, and he deserves the opportunity that's been presented. Nevertheless, I remain behind. I really have no excuse to wallow in self-pity. It's not like he's leaving the country or anything. We'll still be able to get together; in fact, maybe more so than now. For all the years we've worked together, we've seen each other outside of work only a very small fraction of the time. I guess when you see someone day in and day out, week after week, month after month, it doesn't really seem all that necessary to get together outside of work. Now that we won't have that daily contact, I wager I'll be looking forward to meeting up with him on some weekend here and there.

As our office got together to say farewell, I couldn't help but reminisce about some of the old times. There were the years when we were still working part-time hours. We would often work evening shifts and on the weekends. There were many trips to the pub after work. I remember the agonizing time spent working whilst the building underwent renovations. I think I can speak for my friend (as well as my fellow workers at the time) that those painful years, as it turned out to be, were undoubtedly formative for us. We all emerged from the renovations a little more jaded; a little more cynical; and little more bonded. I remember the years working with the public, especially the regulars, as we called them; those individuals who would test our patience and resolve, and who, like the renovations, would become pieces of who we are today. Those were the days in the trenches. Even after we both ascended to the upper floors to fill positions away from the general public, and here I hope I speak truthfully of my friend as of myself, we never did seem able to shake a mentality that tasted of cynicism and disappointment. I know that even here, away from people and history of the past, new disappointments always seemed to arise; new opportunities to lament at a work environment bogged down in the mire of arcane policies and irrationality. I recall something said at one of my workshops: a cynic is a disappointed optimist. Looking back at all the days leading up to now, I can see some truth to that statement.

Now he's on to other opportunities, and while the industry is the same, the environment is surely to be something very different. I hope he can use this chance to start of fresh; to shake off the dust of the renovations and leave the regulars behind. I hope he can find in this new place, a group of people who have a slightly brighter outlook on the job and the life it can lead to. I hope that he can find in this new place a chance to become more optimistic in finding less disappointment.

Meanwhile, I'll still be here; getting by, but making the most of it. When all is said and done, no matter where his new position takes him, we'll still have stories of floods and gas leaks; stories of DRA vs. Unicorn; stories of Doug, Jamie, and "Three fresh ones for today!"; and we'll always have the patio of the pub where we buggered off that one summer day and enjoyed a pint on company time. Cheers!