Yesterday, carrying a fake plant and a bicycle pump, I slipped out of the office for the last time. I’d cleared my desk, made my speech, had my exit interview. I’d even been to the op-shop to leave my treasured yellow mat in the bin. (It’d been my signature, but already felt like a relic.)
I won’t miss the office, but only because I don’t generally miss things. Like the museum before it, and Paris before that, it’s been a site of love, preparing me for what’s next.
Now I’m up early, watching balloons drift past the city. Orientation Day.