What can you say about a Thursday, this one in particular? Not a whole lot, as it happens. It was colder and rainier that the rest of the week has been, but largely indistinguishable in most other respects. We’re getting close to the final hour at the office, today being our last full day there, and everything I’m taking with me to my new work station is in a crate on its way over there now. (Possibly, it’s all already there.) Tomorrow is a half day, mostly for people who have yet to finish packing, and after that we’ll never see the old place again.
I’m not really going to miss it. I’ve worked in this building, now, for just shy of seven years, and we could do with a change. I’m not thrilled with the idea of an open plan layout, or by what it does to my commute, but I won’t miss the constant fire alarms or the tile falling off the bathroom wall. (The latter is a recent occurrence, as the office has gone full House of Usher on us, falling apart as we leave; the former, however, has been constant, almost every day, for at least the last three or four years. These are some seriously well-tested fire alarms.) It will be an adjustment, some of which I’m resigned to because — well, because I have to be — but most of which I’m genuinely looking forward to. If only because we’ve been talking about moving for months and now we’re finally, on Monday, doing it.