The Next Chapter

It was definitely not my choice, but it was not the world's worst news — at least not at this stage of life. After almost 23 years of working at The Mailbox, my position is being terminated by the powers that be.

It was definitely unexpected. Especially since we began working at home at the start of the pandemic, I have devoted myself to this career beyond any of my own expectations; I have actually loved it. I have it on good authority that at least a couple of my office mates (well, mates away from the actual office) have long considered me indispensable. The lot of these folks truly are something of a second family, many of whom I've worked with for the entirety of these damn near 23 years. But the decision makers are not part of this family; they're bean counters who reside a long way away, who have no understanding of what it is we truly do — or how bloody perfectly this gang of disparate personalities has meshed and functioned harmoniously together for more years than most folks ever work at one company anymore. It's nobody's fault really; our business operates as businesses will, and when numbers are down, for whatever reason, this is just how it goes.

I can't say I wasn't hoping for at least another couple of years behind the graphic services coordinator's desk before I retired. Still, I have quite seriously considered retirement more than once since our company was bought by foreigners (well, New Yorkers, if we want to be technical). But I realized that, in the long haul, I'd be better off, financially and probably psychologically, sticking with The Mailbox as long as they'd have me.

Well, now they won't, and I reckon it's time to move on. Things will definitely be a bit tighter than I've been accustomed to, but barring a fair number of rugs being pulled out from under us all at once, Brugger and I should make out okay. In some ways, I've been dreaming of this opportunity — to be able to devote myself to writing projects that have been burning inside for some time now — and to grab that opportunity sooner rather than later.

Well, here it is.

To Sharon, Amy, Becky, Jen, Phil, Tina, Troy, and of course Brugger, who deigned to marry me: you folks have been the best bunch I could have ever hoped to work with, and I am proud to call you not just my peers but my friends and family. Well, maybe not Troy, but the rest of you... yeah. It has truly been my privilege — except for on those occasions that you've pissed me off. (Be aware that I have written some of you into stories — and you know how my stories go.) Should I ever achieve wealth beyond my wildest dreams, rest assured that I will buy The Mailbox, and all you good folks will have jobs until you wish you didn't.

And that's it. Off we go.