I smiled, watching the pile of worn tape grow on the side of my desk, as I pulled photos down from the column next to my desk last Thursday, one by one. I’d put up the photo wall in early September, an attempt in personalizing my little cube, something I hadn’t bothered to do in the previous seven months of working at that company, and now I was taking them down, the final step before walking out the door for the last time. Many of the photos were from March through August of last year, and despite having seen them every day for five months, I found myself reminiscing over each one.
There were photos from the Spartan Race, my partner-in-crime R, Twinster and I in sports bras covered in mud, flexing and showing off our medals; there were snaps from Jazz Age Lawn Party, R, H the Scot, my dearest K and I dressed to the nines in our roaring 20s gear. There were taxi selfies of my lovely friend M, her N and I, epic Nickname Posse selfies with all of us squeezed in a tiny frame, photos of my family and a glamour shot of little miss, posing next to my dresser like a 6 pound model (of pure evil). There were photobooth shots of my anchor G and soul sister E, and R, C and I posing with our best Resting Bitch Face at dinner the weekend H’s brother was in town. I had this interesting moment, as I peeled the final photo away and threw away the mound of tape; I thought that would be the moment it hit me that I was really leaving my job, really starting over somewhere new, but instead a slow calm washed over me like a misty storm. Those photos spanned just five months in the last year, yet they are packed with so many memories on the surface; and even more memories behind the scenes, like how the Spartan weekend was the one where The Child told me “I can’t” and how that photo of little miss was right after I tried yoga for the first time ever. “What a year,” I thought, carefully tucking the photos into the bag with the rest of my personal effects. What a year indeed.
As I’m settling into day two at this brand new office, I’m noticing I have an empty cube and many more memories to hang. I could bring in the same photos, put up the same wall. But no, I think not. Since the past five months have been just as eventful as the ones on my wall the last time. I think a new job, and a new desk, means it’s high time for new decorations. I’ll spend some time later tonight picking out the new photos to reminisce on next year about how much has already changed.