a season of farewells

I still miss the M train. The seats, the space, the convenient access to the east side, all of it. I'm making do with the R or the D or the N, but it's not the same.

You know what else isn't the same?

A Fernando-less office.

Yes, dear readers, a dark day will descend on me tomorrow: it will be my first day without Fernando.

"What?!" I hear you shouting at the screen. "What do you mean, 'without Fernando'? You didn't tell us he was leaving!"

I know. I didn't want to face it myself. The thought of going to the office and not having his goofy antics to report, his smiling, accepting face to look at, his advice, and his shenanigans... it was all too much for me, so I kept it from you.

I'm sorry, readers, it's true. I'm a truth-hiding blogger who doesn't deserve your trust. (Would it change anything if I told you I thought it was in your best interest?)

Fernando got a job in Texas and will be moving to Austin next Saturday. I miss him already, in a shockingly profound way. I have never met someone like him before, and probably never will again. He is charming, impish, childlike (without a trace of being childish). He is hilarious in his unintentional moments, and lovable in his intentional ones. I felt grateful every day that we worked together that he was the one chosen to be in my office.

I've never lost a friend like this -- and of course I know he's not lost. He's simply relocated. But I've never had a friend move away if I wasn't moving away, too. To deal with it, I'm doing something drastic. They will replace him, and someone else will move in with me, but that person should know one thing: I WILL NO LONGER BE SITTING AT THE SHITTY DESK!

And I might reconsider sharing the garbage can.