The long goodbye #1

There's a sense that the department's lost its head, and a collective gloom hangs in the air. I'm going to wish that I hadn't told them I was leaving.

After the chaos of last week at work, I suppose today was always going to be a downer. And despite the fact that getting out of bed this morning remains the hardest thing I did all day, I applied my usual monday morning philosophy: if the feet are moving, sooner or later the head's going to follow. And by the time I got to the cafe I was positively cocky. Right up until the point I landed heavily on the pavement. Pulling myself up was the second hardest thing I've had to do today.

As I sat at my desk cradling my bruised and scabby elbow, I was aware of an eerie silence in the office. I've seen this a few times; all it means is the team's depressed. It's not the recurrent client crises and intensely challenging work they do; it's the fact that the organisation isn't backing them up any more, and seems more obsessed with the latest flashy intiative than any attempt to actually support the workers and get on with things. I feel like it may be terminal.

On top of that, I'm working quite hard on the handover. I'm trying to work out how many of the things I've learnt and figured out *really* have to be passed on. And as I'm not going to be replaced, I don't even know who that's going to be.

I just wish people wouldn't say "you can't leave" quite as often. They're probably right.