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Enter
Today was the first morning at the new office.
My office is cool. It’s a little far from my peeps down the hall and around a corner, but a little walking will do me good.
The movers are behind but we had some wicked thunderstorms yesterday afternoon/evening, so I’m back at the home office this afternoon. I can’t help myself when there’s stuff to be done and my neck tells me my moving days are over, so it’s best if I remove myself from the temptation and work from home.
Speaking of working, I’d better do some so I’ll be quick.
I’m worried about the drive.
The commute to Clearwater was cake. It was mostly a straight shot down a limited access highway (not an Interstate Highway, but just like one)… the kind of drive where you pick a lane and cruise to your destination at a steady speed.
The commute to Largo is not cake. It’s only about fifty percent further but it takes three times longer. It’s the kind of stop and go driving that reminds me my neck isn’t right.
I didn’t think of it much leading up to the move but after driving back and forth this morning I can’t think of much else.
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Exit
I looked up on my way out the door this afternoon. There’s an exit sign pointing to the parking lot as you leave my office.
“Tomorrow will be the last time I look up at that sign.” I thought to myself.
Tomorrow will be my last day at work in Clearwater. I’ve worked there since the fall of 1996. Seventeen years wouldn’t give a lot of folks pause, but if you were to look through my eyes it would seem like forever.
We didn’t have kids. We were a month or more from learning Cheryl was pregnant with our first. We lived in a small, two bedroom condo we rented from Cheryl’s parents. I still drove my first car purchased with my own money. The adventures of George Bush were safely contained in Texas, and he and his pal Karl had yet to be inflicted on an unsuspecting nation.
But the most startling thing of all: a Democrat was Governor of Florida – good ‘ole Walkin’ Lawton Chiles.
It’s not like I’m quitting my job though. I’ll still be working for the State of Florida on Friday, in the same capacity I’m doing so now. I’ll just be doing it from a drab, state owned building in Largo. We’ll be trading old-growth oaks, shade, and a view of Tampa Bay for pavement, concrete, and lots of pink stucco.
A Judge I worked with years ago used to ask me, “Do you have to pay the State to work here every day?” Despite the location on the water, the buildings themselves weren’t kept as well as others might, which made the lease affordable for a government agency – even in Florida. Still, I’ve always thought we had it made.
You can’t put a price on a little bit of peace amid the chaos our jobs can be.
Well, I suppose you can if you own the place.
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What’s so special about today?
Today is Monday, July 15th, 2013.
Our first born child, a little girl we named Elizabeth Ann, was born on Tuesday, July 15th, 1997.
Maybe you’re not a math person… and that’s ok. Not everyone is, so I’ll do it for you (eventually).
Caveat: my knowing has nothing to do with math and everything to do with said little girl (who’s not so little anymore) asking the following question every 1.25 hours for the last 6.5 months: “Can you believe I’m going to be sixteen years old this year?!?”
Not that I’ve been counting.
You may recall my tale of the head of child psychiatrics at the local children’s hospital diagnosing Beth with Aspergers (or high functioning autism), after a somewhat difficult childhood. You may recall the years of various diagnoses and treatments leading up to it. You may recall the birth defect which led to surgery to remove it and a damaged kidney that it caused.
This is not to say Beth’s childhood was worse than many others’. But it’s hard to consider yourself lucky when your child is suffering.
I’m happy to say Beth is a smart, confident, and independent thinking sixteen year old young adult today.
She may never know the depth of my pride, though not for a lack of trying. Some things are hard to express. Some things are hard to understand until you’ve stood in their shoes.
Happy Birthday kid!
