November 21, 2007
Today was my last day in the office this year. It seems like it was just the summer, and I’m on “Christmas Vacation” now. What am I getting for Christmas, huh?
Anyway, tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and as usual, we’ve got lots of people coming over. At last count, we are north of twenty-five.
Two turkeys (one roasted, one fried – the *best* way), lots of potatoes, stuffing, and of course cranberry sauce. Now, not just any cranberry sauce, but Ocean Spray with “Flav-O-Ridges”.
The can now comes with a handy serving suggestion (pictured), as well as a guide to open the other end. I’m not sure what planet the Ocean Spray can engineers live on, but in normal world, where Newtonian physics (and suction) apply, one cannot remove the cranberry cylinder from said can without opening *both* ends. Of course, you can use a crude device like a spoon, or even use a knife to cut around the edges, but doing so will cause complete “Flav-O-Ridge” destruction, which of course makes the sauce far less tasty.
I grew up on Ocean Spray – not just at Thanksgiving, but just about once a week. Ocean Spray made me the man that I am! Er, wait… ok, maybe the person that I am! That’s better.
This morning when I got into work I felt a little melancholy. Ok, a lot melancholy. My last day for a while. I actually love my job. Its fun, it’s intellectually challenging, I love the space… its all good. I hate to be away for this long. No helping it really…
I’ve had a bunch of really sweet emails from co-workers over the past few days wishing me well. I still marvel at my fortune of working at Microsoft, and with such an amazing set of folks. Every mail like that is a little gift, and I really treasure them all.
As I was leaving this afternoon before coming home to run the inevitable errands, I did what I usually do before the hour-long fight in traffic – stopped in the restroom. I got to the doors, and stopped for a second. This was my last trip to a Microsoft men’s restroom. (I’ve accidentally opened the women’s room door once or twice. Some of the buildings diabolically switch the sides/location of the rooms from floor to floor. Check twice, open once. However, the men’s rooms generally have a bluish hue to the tile – the women’s – pink. Bye bye Blue!)
I drove home, did errands, had dinner (Samwich did his best FSM impression, he was eating rice noodles, and they were knit into a knot around both hands, then his head, then his body, etc. Bathtime was an exercise in noodle-ectomy skills.
There are no big chunks of time between now and Monday when I have to be in guy mode. I’m on the precipice of my fulltime transition. I feel stressed, but less so than yesterday.
I don’t think anyone can be really ‘ready” for something like this. I can say that I’m at peace with it… still convinced, still consenting.
All I know is that I’m ready to eat a lot of Turkey.