It is now 5 days before the u-haul pulls up to my shack (which is only booked because my Dad did it for me. If it were up to me I would probably end up walking the 150km to Capital City with my bed and cat strapped to my back). Today I woke up and went “motherfuck…I have a lot of crap. Perhaps it is time to think about packing.”
I do not yet have boxes, packing tape, the dwarves I assume I can hire to do my dirty work, newspapers…
So of course I utilized my time by coming to work to read celeb gossip and talk on msn. Speaking of work, I am not as excited to leave as you might imagine. Probably because nobody in my department knows or cares that my 3-year reign of indifference and eating my lunch at my desk is about to end. The girls in my office wanted to do something for me, but TheBoss shat all over that right before he went on vacation:
TheBoss: Hey, Peachy-Peach! Isn’t your last day coming up?
ThePeach: Yep. At the end of the month.
TheBoss: Wow, we should really do something for you.
ThePeach: Aw, you don’t have to!
TheBoss: Well, the girls in the lab wanted to throw you a surprise party, but I decided it would be too much work. I mean, I’d have to figure out a date, and a place, and then get FauxHawk to bring you there…no way, man! Too much work!
ThePeach: That’s sweet.
TheBoss: So maybe you can just organize something.
ThePeach: You want me to organize my own goodbye party?
TheBoss: Not a party. Just, like, a lunch or something. Somewhere cheap. See what you can get organized.
TheBoss: Man, what am I going to do without you?!
ThePeach: You might feel slightly less important.
TheBoss: I doubt it.
And now TheBoss is on vacation until the end of the summer, so he won’t even be here when I finally take off. If I leave a flaming bag of shit on his desk, as previously intended, the whole fucking building will burn down before he finds it! And I don’t necessarily want to kill innocents. This time.
So, I guess my point here is that I came to work feeling both incredibly underwhelmed about leaving and incredibly overwhelmed about packing. And then, the janitors made my life beautiful again.
THE JANITORS! OF COURSE! The one group of people who will actually notice my absence!!! How could I have forgotten them??!
In my 3 years of complete solitude in this basement chamber I call an office, I have had a silent army of compatriots on my side and I never even knew it. Every time they came in to change my garbage, replace a fluorescent bulb, or grease the sticky handle of my door, we made a brief and silent connection. If the connection could speak, I think it would say “I hate my life. And you hate yours. But we’re in this shit-hole together, so let’s just try not to burn it down for one more day. I respect you, silent soldier. I respect you.”
I often go weeks without human contact at work. Except for the janitors. When I laugh out loud at a YouTube video of a midget falling down the stairs, the janitors hear me. When I swear and throw the stapler at the wall, the janitors see me. When I close the office door so that I can eat donuts and cry in peace, the janitors keep a respectful distance. And when I hoard all of my empty water bottles in a giant tower behind my desk, the janitors recycle them for me without judgment.
And today they saved my ass.
As I was panicking about packing, TigerCat told me to go ask a Janitor if I could borrow some packing tape. This seemed reasonable, so I went and knocked on the janitor cell-door and explained my predicament. This is what happened:
ThePeach: *wailing* and I’ve been putting it off for so long that now I’m totally screwed, and please god say you have some packing tape I can borrow!?
Janitors: YOU’RE MOVING???
ThePeach: *sniff* Ya, to CapitalCity.
Janitors: WAIT. HOLD ON. YOU’RE LEAVING THE DEPARTMENT????
ThePeach: Oh. Ya. I guess nobody really knows. TheBoss hasn’t exactly sent a memo out.
Janitors: But…but…you’ve been here for so long!! You can’t just leave!
ThePeach: Well…I guess I am.
Janitors: Oh my god!! It’s going to be so different without you!
ThePeach: You…you…know who I am??
And what happened then?
Well, in Whoville they say that ThePeach’s small heart grew three sizes that day.
And then the true meaning of moving came through.
And ThePeach found the strength of 10 peaches. Plus two.
10 minutes later the janitors had loaded my office with packing tape, newspapers, and enough boxes to create some kind of hobo street-settlement. I might have to close the door so I can cry in peace.
Fahoo fores. Dahoo dores. Welcome Christmas, CHRISTMAS DAY!