Today marked the end of an era.
At 1pm I walked out of the building that’s been my workplace for four and a half years. It was a strange feeling, made all the stranger because although I’ve worked there since January 2007, I’d worked there as a temp in 2005, been a volunteer in and out of the building throughout my student years and had been a regular visitor between the ages of 11 and 15.
In fact, my association with the building began back in 1982 when I was just a small baby. As my mother was once moved to inform during a meeting we both attended last year, she’d changed my nappy in the room in which we were gathered. (There are times and places for such anecdotes – that was not one of them.)
Because my world is small and bizarre, it should be unsurprising that I ended up working in a building that my mother had worked in for 6 years; the building from which my father was sent as a mission partner 30+ years ago. Because my world is surreal, it made perfect sense that my desk for the last 3 years was just metres (literally around 2) away from the spot at which my mother’s desk had stood.
Today, I left Methodist Church House.
It feels right to have gone and on the whole it’s been a positive experience. There have been ups and downs. Sometimes it’s been massively frustrating, sometimes it’s been fantastic – especially on the odd occasion that I’ve got to travel to interesting places.
I’ve been blessed with some utterly fabulous colleagues. In fact, so far my working life has always involved one person I’ve had to work with closely who has also happened to be someone with whom I’ve got on famously. When I started at MCH I was worried I wouldn’t find someone I got on as well with as my CMS companion; but found Abidemi who was a valuable ally and is still an excellent friend. When she left I was convinced I’d be stuck with someone awful, and Andy arrived. He wasn’t so awful, in fact, it’s kind of thanks to him that I got to spend last week in France. When he disappeared I was positive that the void would be filled by an utter nightmare of a colleague, but I was wrong again – C turned out to be an almost perfect partner in crime. Work is never so bad when it involves spending time with friends.
Generally, I don’t blog about work, but there have been some entertaining stories along the way – like the discovery of what the mysterious Railway Club Room contained; the ridiculous lengths I end up going to thanks to my big mouth and my colleagues’ non-appreciation of sarcasm; the vagaries of the kitchen rota; the trauma of moving floors; and the bonuses of being able to watch the Madame Tussauds’ queue from the office window.
It’s been good, but new challenges are ahead. Next week, I get to move house. Whoop!
It’s a time of great joy for someone whose recurring anxiety dream involves packing…
