It did not even occur to me to sleep on the train this morning. The understanding of the weight of the letter I was waiting to deliver was too ponderously freeing to allow me to give into the gravity of slumber. My boss will not enter the building for approximately another hour, but I have left my intentions, typed out, sealed in an envelope on which I wrote her name, on her desk. This is the closest she will ever be to knowing without knowing. For my part, the words have flown from me, and are hanging out in the atmosphere waiting to be detected. They don't belong to me any longer, and I don't belong to this place.

For the last year I have been biding my time, and for the next two weeks, time will be elusive and fleeting while I struggle to tie up loose ends, make sure all of my jobs are ready to be handed over to someone else, as I leave things like "green sheets", the PSR, and camera-ready packages behind, with moments to spare, I hope.

I have never been sad to leave a job, even the job I had right out of college, my best one to date. Because I prefer the end of a matter to the beginning, I feel optimistic and bright-eyed when saying good-bye when there is no unfinished business. I think of the clean break afforded everyone involved. I think Here we all go to find our real lives now.

As usual, I am sipping my first cup of coffee of the day, welcoming the thought of the news settling in, and then us all going about our business as usual.