disappearing act

When all my officemates were too busy to notice, I silently packed the small action figures in my desk, took my Mickey Mouse mugs from the pantry, and cleaned my desk. I guess I’m ready to go soon.

I’m preparing myself to leave work, thinking of things to balance the absence of permanent work. I guess I have to make freelance jobs work for me, my parents have to file social security disability, and maybe we can have a little business on the side. Just a few more years (hopefully just two), and I’d be out of law school.

I guess what I will not be ready to do is to say goodbye. Somewhere along the way, I’ve developed a (serious?) problem on goodbyes. I have a hard time saying goodbye. I don’t want to talk about them: the experiences we had, the good times we shared, the future for me, the we will miss you part.

I worked for 6 years in my old office. When I knew I was leaving, I filed a leave weeks before and never said goodbye to anyone. Now in my current office, I only told people I needed to inform that I’d be leaving and asked them not to tell anyone. I guess I’d just disappear again.