I’m in the lunch room and it is empty, and in a way these final days are always spent alone. Sure, I’m still among my colleagues, but I’ve started to detach. They’ve started to separate from me. We’re not a team anymore, even if we are. That’s a pretty cynical way of looking at things, but that is how it often feels. But I keep going and so do they. Our paths are no longer together. They diverge and we go our separate ways.

I’ve time to think about if I’ve achieved anything here over then past few months, and I’m wondering if I actually care about if I’ve achieved anything. One one hand I kind of do, but on the other I don’t. I came in to do a job and I took it as it was the one I had a successful interview for. I came in and did the job and I did want the job, don’t get me wrong, but it was just a job. It was not a career path and I’m not a career chaser anyway, so I don’t mind too much. I did it, it was done, and now I’m here, sitting in a kitchen, warbling away about it and that’s cool, too. Or not.

I think I’m wondering about if I’ve done much of anything, or anything that I can say that I care about as I’m floating from contract to contract. I’m moving through them, going here, going there, and that’s what’s going to happen once more. I keep going and it’s great that I get to keep going, but I just want some more stability.

Glad I can rest for a good few months, at least. That’s nice.

So I’m here. I’m sitting here and it’s quiet and it’s great that it’s quiet. Some people are passing through, sure, but this space is mine and not something I need to worry about sharing with others so much. But I’m wondering what it is that I can say. Something that I can say that will help me remember this job.

I liked the people. The people are great. I’ll miss them. That’s about it.

Sometimes these spaces can end up providing something obvious. I’m a small person at the end of the day, and despite how big a personality I have, I am a small and empty person in a moderately-sized and empty space. At the end of the day, everything moves to a quiet and I’m currently ruining that quiet right now. I’m typing away, harming an atmosphere that wouldn’t be appreciated unless someone was in it, and I’m just a person who is doing this. One more person moving through a space, soon to be forgotten (or not) as I float on elsewhere, and then to wherever comes after that. I keep floating on, keep trying to find somewhere where I can sit, and I just have to keep pushing through whatever until I get to stop floating around.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 05:54:69

There’s a bit of conflicting feelings coming through here, and it continues on into the next bit of writing. I didn’t have much to say but I felt I had to say something. It’s an odd bit of writing for me.

Written at work.