So, unbeknownst to the majority of the people I work with, today was the last day that I’m going to be working the late shift. Starting next week I’ll be getting into work so early that I’ll be leaving two hours before any of them roll in. Long story short, I won’t be seeing a lot of them again.
On my way out, I had a total Michael Scott (of The Office) moment. More specifically, that part in his final episode where he looked out at all his coworkers who (with the exception of one) had no idea he wasn’t coming back.
It was that feeling that you get when you’re a person with an undeserved amount of self importance who doesn’t want to except they’re not as interesting as they genuinely are.
But I looked at all of them: the tiny girl that hated me from her first day, the giant with the internal monologue problem, the guy with girls constantly visiting him, the weird guy that’s constantly talking about his gun collection. The whole weird group. And I thought about how I was one of them. The obnoxious nerd who’s always making inappropriate quips. I too was a character that was about to walk off stage.
I also thought about the fact that there’s a lot of people who I just won’t see again. Kim, who is one of the most genuinely nice people I’ve ever met in my life, who lives so far that I only see her when she gets called in for a meeting. Chances are I won’t see her again.
Coworkers that I hang out with after work by going to the bar with them at 1AM. That probably wasn’t going to happen.
I know I’m not important to the people there, I know that. Hell, two of the team leads there spent the last year plus making me feel like human garbage and yet, there was still this weird air of melancholy. Why?
Kinda reminds me of something I heard somewhere (unless I came up with it and, in that case, go me), “no matter how dramatic a situation is, it always feels more dramatic when everyone else cares even less than you do.”
Cest la vie. Morning shift, here I go.
Acknowledging that it is, in fact, what she said,