And then what

February 27, 2006 | Category: In My Life

I'm having my nice little breakdown here. Crying a lot. Overwhelmed. Really overwhelmed. The house looks like an 18-wheeler ran through it, then backed up (beep! beep! beep!) and ran it through again.

Over a week ago, I decided to attack the laundry that never got done. The piles at the bottom of the laundry chute. The stuff that had been sitting ignored (CD was in charge of laundry, I want to say it right here, OK? In charge of getting it clean. Is this noted for the record?). You know, blankets that needed washing. Summer clothes that got sorted out when winter came along. Hell if I know all the reasons.

Elia and I took a box of garbage bags and gathered it all up. We braved the chaos that is the basement and looked under beds and in the back corners of the closets. And we found 16 bags' worth.

I am SO not kidding.

I made CD turn himself around the moment he came home and help ferry me and the 16 bags and the jumbo bottle of Tide to the laundromat. I was in a royal snit. I mean... 16 bags?! I'm talking the big green bags here, not the skinny white ones.

And they got washed, and they got dried, and they got reloaded into the bags and into baskets and all stowed back in the van and then heaved and carried in the dark cold from the driveway into the family room.

Ah, but then what?

Then they had to be pulled out of the bags. And folded. And sorted. And good Lord, ironed. And some needed to be rewashed. And some mended. And some donated.

I have sat on that blasted coach, every day since, doing a little bit at a time.

Yes, it is not done yet.

Stewing, and angry, and blaming CD but not knowing why - other than the obvious that hey, he's a slob and that pisses me off in general.

Spring clean trips to the laundromat happen every year. All comforters, pillows, throw rugs and sundries. Things too big for our machines. A sweep of it all, to rinse away the dust of the long winter.

This year, however, as I try and get it all put away my brain is also doing a spring clean. With nothing to drag my attention away - like crazy managers and insane deadlines - my mind tries to process all the stuff it pushed away for the past half-decade. Just like the 16 bags of laundry.

Suddenly I find myself in these fugue flashes... experiencing the loss, and betrayal, and exhaustion more deeply now than I did back then, in the moment.

And it hurts.

It hurts to strip the rest away. I mean, of course I am still Bear's mother. I am CD's wife. I am my mother's daughter and my friend's friend and former soldier of a Fortune 200 corporation.

But in these days, with no fixed engagements and no meetings demanding attention.... there is mostly just this. And the laundry.

And I .... HATE folding laundry.

A Measure of Progress

February 25, 2006 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

Arizona. CD's company has a hub there. Arizona. A town somewhere between hot and damnhot.

Even though it is a longshot on paper, I know better.

It's karma.

See, I believe that everyone has special kinds of karma.

Bad karma - like my friend whose car has been hit over a dozen times.

And good karma.

My mother, for example, has parking karma. If you have her in the car, you can count on a parking space opening up right in front. Seriously.

A friend of mine has cheap ticket karma. He once went to Paris for a weekend in late summer for $150 roundtrip.

Me? I have job karma. Except for one notable year-long period in my life, I have always been able to find work.

When we first moved into this house, and CD was showing signs of the darkness that later decended, I said to him one morning that maybe I should think about a part-time job.

That afternoon, our new neighbor came out as we were in the yard and offered me (practically a stranger) a part-time job at his company.

CD looked at me and rolled his eyes.

CD does not have job karma. He's brilliant and reliable and talented. Once he is hired, he is the kind of guy that gets lots of promotions and employee of the month or whatever.

When we were pregnant, the law firm he worked at held a big surprise baby shower - for him. He was disgustingly beloved there.

Yep, once hired CD is king of the road.

But getting a new job? ugh.

So it is a very reasonable fear I have that in his quest to make enough money to support this family - we will end up in Arizona. Because these people already know CD. They want to keep him and promote him.

Realizing this the other morning, I began to panic. I started thinking up ways to avoid learning to love cacti.

"Look," I said. "I'll go back to work. Mega will take me back. Then we'll move to Minnesota. A reasonable house, in a good school district. Near a lake and a park. And then you'll look for a new job and once you have one, I'll quit again. How does that sound?"

And his expression turned relieved, and he smiled.

And I breathed and smiled back.

And that lasted for about, honestly, 10 minutes.

Then he looked at me and away. "We can't," he said, finally. "We have to go forward, not back."

"But I don't like Arizona," I argued.

"Maybe I will find something new here."

He put his arm around me, and I rested my face against his chest.

And even though I was a little upset? I was also a little proud. Maybe a lot.

It's taking a long time for us to find our feet, but that moment was a measure of progress. Maybe a small one, but in the right direction.

Squee

| Category: In My Life

Is it wrong that I am so happy about a television show?? That I am so excited about this whole Josh and Donna thing on the West Wing?

Ever since I saw the promo showing them kiss in the next episode, I've been squeeing.

(This, I am told, is the technically correct term for the little exclamation squeal that accompanies my highly dignified tail-wiggling and hand-waving dance of joy.)

A dive into the land O lakes

February 22, 2006 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

Just an update, before I head over to that ugly pile of suitcases and unpack...

We're back from an impromptu trip to Minnesota. Saturday afternoon and CD, Bear and I were talking about how we wanted to do something with the 3-day weekend.

We put together our decision last fall to investgate the Twin Cities as a possible move-to place and our talk over Christmas that this should be the winter we got Bear on ski's for the first time. A little presto-magic-Hilton and shazam!, we were on the road.

No laptops, no internet, and only a couple of our cell phones. It was just us three hanging out and having some much-needed family time.

We went skiing on a local hill (As expected, Bear was outstanding. Already better than most Icelanders. Did I say that out loud? Whoops. Heh.) and swimming in the hotel's pool. We wandered neighborhoods, we ate in local restaurants, and tried to get a feel for the Twin Cities.

Lovely. Really.

Not that we're moving there. Although CD's put in resumes, there hasn't been a job offer in his salary range (even after adjusting for the Chicago-to-Minnesota deflation).

The only prospect right now in the 'It Can Support the Family' categorty is from his current job, which is thinking of offering him a promotion which would be (wait for it....) tied to a relocation to a desert town (EGADS).

I'm talking a hot, more hot, sandy, no-green kind of town.

Where, upon arrival, I would melt.

Yes, of course, his people are my people and if the job takes us to a place where you need to shake out your shoes for scorpions, well ... all righty. It's a new day. It's a new paradigm. So I would (gladly?) pack up the sunscreen and Bear's collection of 10 millions toys and follow the work.

But until then, frolic we did in the land of 10,000 lakes and a heckofalotta snow. With crossed fingers that we could end up someplace like that rather than someplace like the Mojave.

A step at a time

February 17, 2006 | Category: In My Life

I want to thank you for your comments and emails of support. Friday afternoon was probably the most melancholy of my life. And that's saying something for a sentimental fool such as myself.

I don't think I have ever felt more alone in my life. More aimless, superfluous, or insignificant.

When CD came home, it only took one look at me to know that I had let go of my grip on the cliff.

He did what any superhero would do.

He made reservations.

So, Friday night, there we were...walking into our favorite local restaurant, It has wonderful food, eclectic atmosphere, and crayons for kids. Dee joined us there. To celebrate the begining of, well, maybe the end of...?

Anyway, Bear had a hamburger, French fries and milk.

We had bruschetta and cocktails. We had steaks and martinis. We had crème brûlée and port.

We had hangovers.

Saturday morning, CD and I played the "Parent Possum" game. It goes like this - both parents awake at the sound of the child and then see who can pretend to stay asleep longest. Or at least until the other one gives in and gets up.

After a few long moments, I propped up on my elbow and squinted at my husband. One look at his grimace, and I pulled myself from under the covers.

Poor CD.

Despite my advancing age, gender, and general all-around lazy state of health ... he was much worse off than me.

He claims it was the chocolate martini that did him in, but I know it was that I drank the port and he didn't.

I am new to port.

Port rocks.

In fact, I am so enamored of port that I ran out to buy a couple of bottles - a Late Bottled Vintage and a Tawny - the next day. A red wine I can get behind, is all I'm saying. My doctor will be so pleased.

Monday morning, I woke up and got Bear ready for school and then.... went to my office and sat down. My feet took me there before my brain could figure out what was going on.

[Brain]: Uh, feet, dudes, where we going?

[Feet]: Where we always go in the morning. Duh.

[Brain]: That sounds reasonable. Let's stop in the kitchen for some port on the way.

By the time I plopped my fanny in the chair, I was already feeling a panic. I sat and stared at my computer monitor completely at a loss. What was I doing there?

[Brain]: Hey, feet, let's go.

[Feet]: Go? Where? You mean, walk? Walk? Because, seriously, we don't do that anymore. We get you to this brown room and then we have to take a break. Union rules. Read our contract. Really.

[Brain]: You lazy shits! C'mon, c'mon. We need to stretch and move. Explore. New vistas, unknown country. It's the first day of the rest of our lives and all that...

[Feet]: You've got to be kidding us. Look. We get you to the brown room. Then you take over. Year in, year out. Ya dig?

[Brain]: You know, there's a pair of skimpy golden pumps in the back of the closet. The ones with the 4-inch heels-

[Feet]: You wouldn't dare!

[Ass]: Look, you two, can I say something here?

[Brain] & [Feet]: NO!

[Brain]: Feet, don't fail me now. All I'm asking is that we try something new. A step at a time. That's all. A step at a time....

[Feet]: Just one step at a time?

[Brain]: I promise. Cross my synapses and hope to die.

[Feet]: Well, all right then. If you can convince ass to get outta this chair than I can take you there. A step at a time.

[Ass]; As if, you-

[Feet]: Don't MAKE me kick you, because you know I can!

[Brain]: Ladies, ladies. Let's work together here. We got whole new worlds to explore. Ready?

[Feet] & [Ass]: Let's do it...

And that's when I turned off the monitor, and took the first step.

The end of now

February 10, 2006 | Category: On The Job

Sitting at the edge of my chair.

Wondering why I have propelled myself in this way to this point. But it doesn't matter when I am looking in the rear-view mirror at a place where I have spent the last 7 or 8 years of my life.

I pulse with emotion and no reason.

I've taken to heart comments that I have talked too much of work lately, of this decision, of this very moment. Even as I pretend to laugh them off, I wince - just a bit. No one wants to hear, anymore. Ah. OK.

I understand.

My little moment is not much for me to have made all this sound and fury. Not special, or earth-shattering. No. Not much at all.

It is a good thing, for all my Hamlet-esque agonies.

And will lead to more good things, I believe.

And I had power over it. When the roads diverged, it was me who picked this path. There are no victims or losers here. We should be celebrating, I think. I should have thought of that. Planned something, maybe.

Never mind.

It is already this afternoon. Watching as the sky goes steel gray, again. Maybe snow, again. To replace what melted away.

I sit and rub my arms against the chill. Realize that I have already turned off the little radiator.

And I sift through a pile of business cards, crisp and new-smelling. Stroke my finger over the letters of my name and title.

Then, carefully, back in the box.

It is over.

Goodbye to the Army of the Tan Pants

February 09, 2006 | Category: On The Job

As anyone knows, an army runs on its stomach - so I am loading up the van with my goodbye offering of lunch and driving downtown to the hive - the data center where most of them have officies.

After a last review of my project, there is a planned corporate announcement for employees of our division. An "All-Hands".

Every few years, Mega likes to lay off massive quantities of people or completely rearrange the organizations. To keep lean, you know. It has nothing to do with long-term profit or loss - Mega actually had a very successful quarter.

So most folks are figuring that this is what is about to happen again. I know one guy who has been laid off and rehired 4 times. I know another who has had the same job for 20 years under 10 different acronyms.

So it goes.

Whatever is said, we'll listen to it together. Gathered around a warm speakerphone with drippy pizza in our hands.

This corporation has some of the finest damn engineers and technicians on the planet. They make the whole planet go round, from cubbies and data center floors. They have been some of the best times I've had at Mega - duct tape solutions in the middle of the night from guys who make MacGyver look like a lightweight. It's been an honor to learn from them, to work from them, and so, for them, I will bring nothing but the best:

Sausage AND pepperoni. And diet Coke.

Bears say the darndest things

February 08, 2006 | Category: Mother to the First Power

This afternoon, in the car:

Me: What do you think we should get Elia for her birthday?

Bear: A hairdryer.

Me: A... what?

Bear: A hair blower thing, you know? A Hair Dry-y-ER. Her old one is broken.

Me: Uh, it is?

Bear: Yes. We could get one at the place where, you know, we got my Transformer last time.

Me: Uh, Target?

Bear: Yes... and one of those coupons, too, so she can pick out something.

Me (Just dumfounded at this point, was it just last week that he thought a rock was a great gift?): You mean a gift certificate?

Bear: YES. That's what I meant. And I will paint her a nice card.

The future is begining, now

| Category: In My Life

I slip in the Coldplay as I slip into traffic. The snow swirls, the tail lights make foggy red halos, the heater tries to kick in.

They call this 'lake effect' snow, but I have never known what that means. It's not special, except that it's slowing us all down. I glance at the clock and sigh.

Can't be late.

When I was growing up, I hated being the last one. The girl leaning against the wall and watching the door. Wandering if I'd been forgotten.

I won't do that to Bear.

I press the gas, flip my blinker, find a little space in another lane. In a split second, I'm down a side street. Weaving like a New York cab in slow motion.

The Scientist plays;

Running in circles
Coming up tails
Heads on a silence apart...
Nobody said it was easy
It's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard

I think on all the perks I need to replace, the research I need to do. Cell phone, DSL, home line...

When I was my father's daughter, I loved visiting him at work and playing grown-up at his desk. He'd give me a pen and a pad of legal paper all of my own. Crisp white sheets with faint blue lines, waiting to be filled up.

Questions of science
Science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart

The snow grows thick, my wipers slamming back and forth to keep up. I put the van in a lower gear, and sip my coffee at the stop light.

I'm so tired of this. The constant evaluating of my life and these decisions sours me, like a metallic aftertaste. There are others out there, grappling twisting living struggling laughing crying working in their own lives.

Margi has brought home her new son, born premature but growing strong. Sol has walked away from her career, too. She tends to her own boy, while two new hearts grow beneath hers. Helen dreams/seeks/is making a baby while alternating between globetrotting and having knighted people give her awards.

I watch Philip with admiration as he's found ways to fight his constant pain. Pain that won't be treated, won't be cured, and carves into his days. As Kalisah has looked for the silver lining after waking up one day to find herself fired.

There is no time, left, now. To agonize about a decision already made. To paralyze myself with those fears.

Lessons abound. Faith. Strength. Grace. Humor. I push my mind to them. Tentatively, I force myself to let go of the thick bundles of terror and doubt that have gripped me for so long. They slide away, slowly. It hurts.

The future is beginning, now.

Clocks starts, the cascading synth intro echoing.

Come out upon my seas,
Cursed missed opportunities
Am I a part of the cure
Or am I part of the disease, singing

I wipe at the side window, where the defroster doesn't reach. Check the mirrors.

Today CD found a second job. Maybe. Probably. After months of me pacing and shouting and begging him to find something better than he has now.

He'd say "Better paying jobs don't fall from the sky!"

And I'd accuse him of not trying hard enough. Of not wanting to take care of us. Another of my secret fears. And he'd grow silent, impassive.

A few hours later, he'd walked quietly into my office. Stroke my hair as I typed away. Offer to get me a drink.

The sparks of a once-passionate love glowing again. And I'd touch his hand. And we'd pause. The hope lives here, still.

Thinking of it, thinking of the possible second job, thinking of his willingness to work 6 days a week, thinking of those lessons of faith. Think and pushing a few more of those paralyzing bundles off the cliff of my brain. To the place where the names of acquaintances go, where the location of my glasses goes. Gone into a chasm, never to return.

And the gray clouds overhead seem lighter somehow. The roads clearer. The last mile easy. The traffic lights go my way.

I pull up at Bear's school and slide into the carpool lane. My plastic number in my windshield. My claim ticket for his bright blue eyes and pink chubby cheeks. The teachers move quickly through the little cyclones of snow that race up and down the sidewalks.

The kids are ecstatic. As they exit the school in one's and two's and stand on the line waiting to be escorted to cars, they laugh and look up. They nudge each other and throw back their heads in wonder.

My turn, and I unlock the doors with one hand and flip the switch for the automatic door with the other. Whipping off his backpack, Bear climbs in with a grin that could be used as an alternative power source.

"Snow!" he announces. "Enough for snowballs!"

And as he pulls on his seatbelt, and I push the button to close the door against the wind, the clouds actually drift past. The sun bursts through like an explosion, blinding us in reflection against the new snow.

I squint and wipe the tears from my eyes.

"Whoa," Bear says slowly. "That's like the sun coming from heaven."

And I agree. "Beautiful World" starts thrumming from the speakers.

Here we go, here we go

And we live in a beautiful world,
Yeah we do, yeah we do,
We live in a beautiful world...
Oh, all that I know,
There's nothing here to run from,
'Cause everybody here's got somebody to lean on.

Despite the glare, I pull into gear and turn around for the return trip home before the cars behind me start honking. Slowly navigating into the sun.

The future is beginning, now.

Bring it.

Thank you for making it so much easier to say goodbye

February 07, 2006 | Category: On The Job

I received a “satisfaction survey” of my project today.

Guess who they sent it to?

My customer?

No.

My other customer?

No.

Guess who.

You know it was over 6 months ago that my customer’s manager (and one over to the left) started his vendetta and asked that I be replaced. At the time, we were painted as junior executives in a squabble, which made me feel one part outraged and one part "yeah, that's how it goes." I put my head down and kept working to my professional best.

And because the guy was outside my chain, I had no contact with him at all. Which was good, in some ways. On the other hand, it meant there was no chance to redeem or grow the relationship.

But THIS was the guy they sent the survey to.

On paper, the project I was managing was strong - the scope was clear, the budget was met, the work was being managed, that status went out each week, the schedule was within parameters, and I escalated appropriately.

And so, he graded most of the “objective criteria” at the minimum acceptable levels.

You know, for months now I have had the pleasure *cough* of hearing back through my comrades that this guy really didn't give a damn about the actual work. Whenever I was mentioned, he would cast whatever the news was in the worst light. Every good thing was diminished as "probably owing to someone else's effort".

He never said anything to me – we haven’t spoken 2 words in… well, since this happened. But his comments went permanently in my file. I was chastised for his low opinion. And for a while, I tried to learn from what was going on.

But when my lawful family leave to tend to Bear was denounced as me being a "poor team player", I realized I was stuck in what we call, in the corporate world, "a train wreck".

My mentors shouted "run" - to make an internal transfer as soon as I could.

But I chose to make this my last stand at Mega. To use it as my wedge to finally move on....

W. Clement Stone said “So many fail because they don't get started; they don't go. They don't overcome inertia. They don't begin.”

I’ve finally begun. I should be excited.

This shouldn’t bother me, 48 hours before goodbye.

*sigh*

But it does. It does.

Just as I grow weepy (again!) receiving more emails from people about how much they will miss working with me and yada yada yada.

That’s how come I am just a wee bit pissed instead of dismissive that this dumbass just couldn't walk away gracefully. Couldn't say thank you for a job - if not done well enough for him, done. He had to fill in the comments block with the same vitriol he’s been spouting – and for the first time, it is actually sent to me. He called me "high maintenance" and "not well suited to working in a collaborative team environment".

My emotions - all of them - are very close to the surface these days. But once I had 5 seconds to cool down, you know what I thought? Really?

Thank you for making it so much easier to say goodbye

But there my generosity ends.

I have been with Mega for a long time. And I have made many, many mistakes. Made some people angry. And just downright embarrassed myself on some occasions.

But each year, I gained in responsibility. I was graded among the best. I was rewarded financially for my contribution. And I had the mentoring and feedback of professional, honest men and women who have helped me craft my performance and my profession.

So it took no small doing to make me question my career, my corporation, and my own skills. It took a vendetta, which wasted hours of time and misdirected resources. It took a meanness of spirit and a short-sightedness that has, ultimately, robbed my company of a good employee and robbed my project of the full measure of its success.

So.

Dear manager,

Should you ever wander by and wonder if this is about you... yes. Of course it is. And though I leave, I write this from the bottom of my heart...

You are dangerous, you take people's livelihoods and reputations lightly and you put your feelings above the work. You are an example of the worst kind of manager, and you diminish those around you.

And be sure, VERY sure that I sit in the tall grass for you. And it will be my honor, if the opportunity ever arises, to serve you up to karma.

Whiplash

| Category: In My Life

Dear World,

I have written, posted, and then deleted 2 3 4 5 6 posts in the last few days. More than a strong indicator of my present level of craziness (If I were a terror level, I would SO be Ernie), I know this is bad, bad, no-good blog manners and I humbly apologize.

Please forgive me.

I read what I write and realize that I am mumbling, ranting, nonsensical (and not in a lyrical James Joyce way). I realize that I wheelie across boundaries, use poor grammar, swipe at the people I love, gaze profoundly at my own navel, wallow and wallow some more in a pity party I am giving myself, and generally act a mallow-headed prat. And I forget to spell-check too.

I am no better in real life. Saturday night I rented "Kingdom of Heaven" and treated myself to Orlando Bloom in leather tights while eating a plate full of fattening pasta.

Sounded like a relaxing plan when I thought it up.

Turns out? Not so much.

I ended up screaming at the screen about the historical innacuracies of the film until my face turned pink. (No! Really! He was married, faithfully, to her STEPMOTHER! And Italian! And LEGITIMATE!).

My only defense is that I have, regrettably, lost my mind.

(And between you and me, I don't think it's coming back anytime soon.)

My only comfort is that I don't think anyone is watching.

*sigh*

Sincerely,
Elizabeth, Corporate Mommy

It's hard to chew when you're biting your tongue

February 06, 2006 | Category: Well, That Was Random

Well, if anyone ever asked my opinion of the Brad/Angelina/Jen situation (which no one did!) based on what little I know (as if I'd ever met this people... riiiight)....

I think that if you commit to someone that they are your only someone, then having a box full of possible replacements or cultivating anyone new to swap out your current partner on the blow of a whistle is wrong.

There, I've said it.

Before lightning strikes, I will admit to the world here and now - I know this tactic because I was once (back in the stone ages) guilty of a form of it. I thought I was happy in a long-distance relationship until I met someone new....

It goes like this: you're in a monogamous relationship, but you meet someone new that you want to be with. So you start a relationship that technically (yes, I mean S-E-X) isn't cheating - but what, as Jennifer Aniston once surmised of Brad, could be called an "emotional affiar".

Of course, your unaware spouse/partner starts to look worse and worse as the new person looks better and more desirable. So one day, out of what will feel like nowhere to the innocent party, you say "look, this isn't working for me anymore. I need my space..."

And just like that - Wham! - 2 hours later you're making hot monkey love over and over with object of your new affections at the Ritz Carlton while your spouse/partner calls up everyone they know in tears, crying "I don't understand....what went wrong?"

And maybe you say, technically - it's all right.

But having been on both sides of this, I say - it's cheating.

Paint the Sun

February 02, 2006 | Category: Mother to the First Power

Me to Bear this morning: I'm really tired of gray skies, buddy. Wouldn't it be nice if we got some sun?

Bear to me: Well, Mommy. How about when I get home we'll paint the sun on a BIG piece of paper from the craft store and you can tape it on the window?

Me: Wow, that's a great idea, Bear. The only thing is that pictures don't glow and feel warm...

Bear: No, but we can put all the lights on and then you can hug me and we'll make cupcakes.

It ought to be illegal

February 01, 2006 | Category: Well, That Was Random

So CD and I are watching the Ballroom Championships on Public Television (shut up, like you weren't) and we're watching the American Smooth Foxtrot and I look at CD and wrinkle my forehead.

That music, I say....

He cocks his head and listens. What?

Oh, God...

What?

It's....

What?!

BON JOVI!!! They turned BON JOVI into foxtrot music. 'It's my life'! Turned into, like... Bubble Music!!

NO!!

YES!!!

TURN THE CHANNEL! QUICK! MY EARS ARE BLEEDING!

*mute*

For this I owe you: here comes other reckonings.

| Category: On The Job

I fight tears. I knew I was a sentimental fool but I find myself drowning in it. I know the kind words & actions of my coworkers are polite, generous tokens but my emotions have rough edges and push away my logic, the cool professionalism I have cultivated for so long.

"They are just being nice to me because I'm leaving" I remind myself. No good. I'm weepy and mushy and it's all I can do to keep a brave face on.

I am facing the end of the familiarity of my compatriots in the trenches. Of the echoes of their voices in teleconferences, the quick words and odd chuckle echoing over my speakerphone.

I know that the relationships aren’t real in the sense of my tangible life. When it comes time to move, it’s not like these men and women would trade their tan pants for ripped jeans and a strong shoulder against our belongings. I know that my son is just a notion to them as their children and wives and partners and friends and dogs and cats are all just ideas to me.

For all our years together, we could pass each other in an airport without a wave, without a nod.

And so much of the past year has been bad. Just cruel and crazy and nothing any sane person would want to hang onto. I tell myself that this is so healthy, to walk away before I spend one more week in such a place that can be so dark.

The truth of this job is clear.

Yet I'm fighting back tears.

As the goodbyes begin to accumulate. As the instant messages ring onto my screen. "How many more days?" they ask. "Got the short-timer's disease yet?" The phone rings... "Do you have plans?”

“Have you decided what you are going to do that first Monday?"

"Stay just one more week, then you can get paid for President's Day!"

And in meetings, I find my work being snatched away. Gestures of understanding and affection that mist me up. "Elizabeth, I have this - I will get the IP addresses from Security..." "Elizabeth, I will deal with gruff President, don't worry..." "Elizabeth, you’re doing so much tying up loose ends, what can I do to..."

And I hit the Mute button, and huff out breath and take a moment.

I have affectionately called the engineers I work with the Tan Pants Brigade. As tens and tens of millions of dollars of equipment has passed through my projects - these are the people who have done the actual work. From the architecture to the delivery, installation, and production certification, I've grown to respect them and trust them.

I will miss them.

Maybe they aren’t real. In my virtual job maybe most of them are just faces from my infrequent trips or voices that drift into my ear during endless teleconferences. Yeah, ok.

But I will miss them.

"Elizabeth," says the Director as I call to close down one of the last action items. "There will be no replacing you. I hope you know that."

"There's no such thing as an irreplacable resource," I parrot, which is part of Mega's standard philosophy.

"True," he laughs. "But there is in life. Take care of yourself, and of that amazing Bear of yours. We're pulling for you."

And I finally let the tears fall as I hang up the phone. I thought this choice would be easier, because it was what I wanted for so long. But it is turning out to be one of the most difficult months of my life.

I pick up Bear's picture and hold it to my heart and think about all the people I don't know - and will miss so damn much.

And I squeeze my eyes shut and cry.

extra credit if you can identify the title without Googling:)