Last Chance, Last Dance...

So the day has finally come (and gone, it was actually last Friday, I'm just a bit behind on the blogging here...) for the Official End of My Job.

There were times I dreamed of that day--generally in the middle of the State Fair or some truly awful meeting where I was getting yelled at by a roomful of people. But for some reason, I just wasn't ready for it at all. I'm horrible, horrible, horrible at these sorts of situations. I'm a cryer. Hello, my name is Ameliabee and after I saw The Color Purple in the theatre, I had to sit on the curb next to my car until my weeping got down to an acceptable level for driving--and it took 45 minutes.

To say that I got a little sentimental would be like saying that Robert Downey Jr. has a little problem with impulse control. I cried all morning before I left for work, I cried while sending my goodbye email, every time someone new came to my office, on the phone with contractors, the last time I used the copy machine (okay, I'm lying. That was more a dance of joy, but you get the overall picture.) The wonderful folks I work with had a party for me, complete with songs, skits, electric guitars (really!) a funny, funny powerpoint, a t-shirt and poster and other lovely parting gifts. I'll post some photos as soon as I get home--the poster and shirt in particular are terrific. I think I can do that without crying now, but I'm not making any promises.

What you probably won't see are ANY photos of me from that day. As I was getting ready for work, I thought to myself..."People are going to want to take pictures of you today (which I Generally Dislike) so you'd better make sure your hair looks okay and wear your contacts. You look much better without your glasses." Ah, vanity. Of course, I neglected this equation: Contacts+hours of crying=looking like Every Allergy Known to Mankind had been visited upon you. Or like someone who lost a really long fight with, say, Rocky.

So, the whole photo thing didn't work out too well for me. It was only helped by the fact that in most of the photos I am actively crying, and I'm one ugly cryer. I know some women who look so beautiful when they cry... one tear after another sliding down their faces, eyes wide and lips trembling. I get red, and blotchy and my face screws up like someone who just snorted sauerkraut. Not Pretty.

But enough about my splotchiness. It was (despite all my crying) a wonderful, bittersweet day. I'm looking forward to some of the changes in my life, but I will miss many of the wonderful people I've been working with. If any of y'all are reading this, thanks for making me feel more loved, honored and accepted than I've ever felt anywhere before. From one who is currently Sleepless in the Heart of Ohio...