A Sad Day Indeed

Though I’ve known about the possibility of this happening for a while now, it was made official earlier this week. I am losing my muse, my inspiration, my nemesis, my sworn foe, the Admiral Decker to my A-Team, the Khan to my Kirk, the Dwight to my Jim, the Jack Donaghy to my Liz Lemon, the Clinton to my Obama (and to be totally balanced and fair), the Huckabee to my McCain. Female Coworker is moving to the Lone Star State, the Great State of Texas. I don’t know the official date yet, but coming soon, she will no longer be around our office.

If you’ve spent more than, oh, about 2 minutes on my blog, you would think that I would be renting a bounce house, hiring a catererererer (were there too many ‘ers’ there? I tried to spell it as it sounded) and playing Ella Fitzgerald’s version of ‘Ding Dong, The Witch Is Dead’ on constant repeat to help me celebrate. Actually, I’m not doing that, though to be honest, she hasn’t left it, so there’s still a good chance that I will. But, I’m a little sad and a little worried about my archenemy’s final bow (yes, I’m trying to play up the good versus bad melodrama here). I am worried about what I will write about and what I will now do in the office instead of while working to try to get her all riled up so that I can learn another 17 decorative ways to use the F-Bomb. She weaves that four-letter word like a tapestry rug you’d find at Costco for $45 even though it would retail elsewhere for $99.

She was out of the office two days this week and we got a little glimpse of what things without her will be like (and this is the part where you cut to the outside shot late at night and you can hear the whippoorwill coo and the crickets crick chirp). It was quiet and peaceful and totally warm and unintimidating (or since my spell checker doesn’t recognize that word, the exact opposite of intimidating). It was the first time at work that I could actually hear my bionic (OK, fine, ‘artificial,’ even though that doesn’t sound as cool) heart valve tick. It was nice, until about 10AM when Partner In Crime broke the silence of the work morning by saying it was just too quiet. We all started cussing to try and bring the familiar sand-papery tones of her anger into the office, but it just wasn’t the same. Heck, at lunch that day, those of us who were there could barely string 5 words together to say to each other. So, we just spent the remainder of lunch telling our favorite tales of Female Coworker.

I told her yesterday that I was actually going to miss her. She responded by calling me a sissy. Then, she asked why no one would miss her. I calmly explained it was because we were all afraid of her. Then, I flinched and ran away. Yet, I think under that hard candy shell, there might actually be a chewy center. You know, that whole candy analogy seemed like a good idea before I started typing it, sorry about that. Late yesterday she told me that I was welcome to come see her and her family after they’ve settled down in Texas. Though I didn’t say it, my first response was something along the lines of ‘yeah, I’m going to go see you in a state where they have ample access to cattle prods.’

I have no idea who will replace her, but that individual will certainly have some very big shoes to fill, kind of like the ones that rolled up when the house landed on the witch in Oz, kind of. I just hope it’s someone who will give me something to write about, although not fearing the new person would be nice. I am going to have to increase my daily walks for exercise though since I will now be able to walk directly passed her cubicle when the new person is in it instead of going all the way around the office just to avoid her. Passing her cubicle now is like dodging sniper fire on the airport tarmac in Bosnia, or something like that.

Though she hasn’t left yet, I feel like a big chapter in my life is nearing an end. It’s that chapter where the ‘all-clear’ is sounded meaning that the German bombers have stopped attacking and you can go outside again. All that’s left now is for her to flip us off as she is driving away for the last time.

Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind. Memories, sweeten through the ages just like wine…memories, sweet, sweet, memories…