The Last Supper

So it’s all done and dusted. The various goodbye drinks and pub lunches are over, and after over ten years of service I’ve finally finished working with my current employer.

Since it was always me who organised the signing of cards, the whip rounds and the buying of presents, I was genuinely surprised to receive a leaving card and present. I was also quite surprised to hear my main boss say that he was regretting giving me the leaving card and that he was extremely sorry to see me go – something I’d never heard him say to anyone else leaving over the years. Another boss even said that I’d be welcome back anytime - which was so out of character for him.

It was quite a strange feeling leaving really – but rather oddly nothing emotional - because it was my first job since leaving college all those many years ago. I’d been there so long I could almost count my bosses and work colleagues as family. I mean, I’d been there long enough to see my work colleagues children grow from mere toddlers to rebellious teenagers and onto university students.

My last day certainly made me stop and think about how the years have simply flown by and how much older, and hopefully wiser, I’ve become. Still, that was my main reasons for leaving – the chance to push my career in a direction my previous employer unfortunately couldn’t offer me, and with a much improved salary too.

So, my new job awaits. But rather than rushing from one job to another, I’ve decided to take a well earned break. As a result, I’m off to Ireland for a week of relaxation, lots of Guinness drinking and a spot of sightseeing. Heck, I may even manage to bump into a nice Irish lass…