I probably won’t get a chance to write again for a couple of days, so I’ll let this be my last hurrah before going into the weekend of Sarah’s birthday party. Her actual b-day is July 1, but the party is tomorrow evening. I am so psyched about the gift(s) I’m getting her, but at her insistence will be saving them until next Thursday when we celebrate on a smaller scale the fact that she’s turning 29.

Tonight we have a lot of shopping, cleaning, and rearranging of furniture to do. Tomorrow will be all about prep work and cooking. I’m tired now, but I know that there is no rest for the weary until at least 10 o’clock tomorrow night.

As it usually does toward the end of the workday, the temperature in here plummets to what feels like 50 degrees. It’s about 4:30, and right on schedule, I have an air conditioner headache.

It’s raining and grey, heavy like soup outside. The tea I made earlier is cooled, but still pleasant. I’ve thrown out some papers that I no longer need and I am trying to get my arms around all the different projects at work. The summer will be hectic. Add to this mania the fact that I need to find a new job by November, and what I have myself here is a real adventure.

Things are wrapping up for my manager. I hear her emptying files and throwing things away in the cubicle next to mine. It is such an interesting process—divesting one’s self of things that are no longer relevant, yet that for so long, were the very lifeblood of one’s work identity. Whenever I leave a job there is a little melancholy mixed in with the happiness that accompanies starting a new chapter. I have always liked the end of things better than the beginning.