Seafield Crescent, we won't miss you
Our department at work is moving on Monday. I've spent this past week - my first week back at work after more than a year off - packing and organizing and doing other move-related things. Today, as I sit at a desk which holds nothing but my computer, surrounded by boxes of files, office supplies, and other accoutrements, I have time to reflect on all the memories I have of my time here.
It was in this bathroom that I took a positive pregnancy test. It was also there that I first noticed the blood that eventually became a miscarriage. And for the better part of 2007/2008, I went into that bathroom every single morning at 9:30 to throw up.
For a whole year, I got to walk to and from work, since the house we bought is only a few blocks from this office.
This building has always been the last priority for the VIHA-wide cleaning staff, which has led to mayhem and misogynistic remarks.
One spring day while working here alone, I got to respond to a cry for help. Before the Crisis Clinic moved, we used to do lunchtime relief for their receptionist, which caused me some stress. And who can forget the day Mike's colour printer arrived? Oh, and speaking of Mike - the dingy lunchroom (or transvestite's closet, whichever you prefer to call it) always reminded me of Mike's disinterest in maintaining personal boundaries.
For many, many, months, the bulletin board behind my desk had some very important invoices pinned to it, which taunted me every day.
And we can't forget the numerous parking issues at this building, and the time my car got hit while parked outside!
So many memories. Some good, some bad, mostly ridiculous. And now a new office to fill with drama, disbelief, and dumbfounded stares. And don't worry, LJ, I'll be taking you right along with me.
It was in this bathroom that I took a positive pregnancy test. It was also there that I first noticed the blood that eventually became a miscarriage. And for the better part of 2007/2008, I went into that bathroom every single morning at 9:30 to throw up.
For a whole year, I got to walk to and from work, since the house we bought is only a few blocks from this office.
This building has always been the last priority for the VIHA-wide cleaning staff, which has led to mayhem and misogynistic remarks.
One spring day while working here alone, I got to respond to a cry for help. Before the Crisis Clinic moved, we used to do lunchtime relief for their receptionist, which caused me some stress. And who can forget the day Mike's colour printer arrived? Oh, and speaking of Mike - the dingy lunchroom (or transvestite's closet, whichever you prefer to call it) always reminded me of Mike's disinterest in maintaining personal boundaries.
For many, many, months, the bulletin board behind my desk had some very important invoices pinned to it, which taunted me every day.
And we can't forget the numerous parking issues at this building, and the time my car got hit while parked outside!
So many memories. Some good, some bad, mostly ridiculous. And now a new office to fill with drama, disbelief, and dumbfounded stares. And don't worry, LJ, I'll be taking you right along with me.