I love the feelings of nostalgia that come with leaving places…
Don’t get me wrong, this is not to say I’m happy to be leaving my job – I’m not, whatsoever. I adored the work, the staff, the company and just the general atmosphere I got the opportunity to be a part of. But today, talking to and farewelling, friends and colleagues, made me think of some pretty spectacular memories. I thought back to some of our first interactions, many hilarious drunken rambles, break-up tears, happy tears, hysterical laughter, stupid dancing, 16-hour shift delirium and the list goes on and on.
Having lived in 15 different homes, rentals and share-houses, packing up and leaving is not a foreign feeling to me. Shoving my precious belongings into Ikea bags and worn-out cardboard boxes has just become a way-of-life. I think it’s in my blood. For as long as I can remember, my Dad has lived all around the world, albeit mainly for work; but he has never blinked an eyelid when being carted halfway across the globe for his job. Maybe that’s why I was so blasé for so long about my move to Sydney?
I may have turned over the last page of a pretty awesome chapter today. But I know for a fact many of the characters will reappear. Maybe for a mere cameo, and maybe for a long period of time, but it feels pretty amazing to see how drastically my life has changed in 457 days of employment. The feelings that come with the realisation things are about to dramatically change, are kinda exhilarating.