Don’t remind me.

I know they are gone.

Candis and Tara, on their way to a new adventure.

Empty desks.

Empty cubes.

A veritable ghost town in the back room.

Did we say our goodbyes?

Of course not.

It isn’t cool to cry in public.

Those who are left are feeling the pain.

And from the ashes, the next leaders emerge.

I look at my roomies and realize that my time has passed.

I am not a contender.

Not in the scheme of things.

So what the heck is my role?

An instigator of riotous behavior?

A pitiful example of things gone wild?

Miss Haversham reincarnated?

Or just someone who enjoys her job and the people she works with?

Yeah, I think as one ages, the thought of advancing is not first and foremost.

It is rather, what one does best.

What one enjoys, and what makes work a joy.

I hope I can keep up with the wonderfully talented and skilled employees who are in the prime of their lives.

But I have no illusions.

I have my own strengths.

They have theirs.

I love the diversity of the work place.

And when I am hosed up beyond belief and no longer effective in even a half assed way, would someone please put me out to pasture?


And let me live out the rest of my life in a field of grass, dancing, the last dance, the best dance, with Mary Jane.





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