Yesterday at work I was approached about the possibility of a going away party for me. I suspected that this might be coming and when I first considered it I thought, no, I don’t want one. I mean, it’s not as if I’m leave of my own accord. I’m being forced out, right. But then I thought, why not. Because even though I’m disappointed that I’m losing my job, particularly because I don’t yet have a new job to transition to, I bare no ill will against the library or the people who had the make the decision. It was a budgetary consideration. What’s to be done, right?
Besides, it occurred to me that I’ve never had a going away party thrown in my honor before. Of course, before this library job I’d never worked anywhere longer than maybe 4 years, so perhaps that has something to do with it. In any case, I thought it might be nice. And perhaps it will serve as a way to help me transition, you know, a kind of occasion to say goodbye, a ritual of sorts. Whatever….
It’s funny because even a few years ago I wouldn’t have given a rat’s ass about such things. Even if I’d left on my own terms I would have declined any kind of party, I wouldn’t have wanted any kind of to-do. Just let me work my last day and leave. That’s it and that’s all. But I guess I’m seeing things differently these days. I don’t know.
Maybe I just want free cake.