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Jul. 25th, 2008 10:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sebastienneIt's my last day at work today. Well, actually, I'm employed and they're paying me until the end of August; but not taking a holiday for eleven months has its advantages, and this five-week paid break is one of them.
I am going to miss conversations with co-workers (library staff - they are at right-angles to "reality" and I love them for it), the readers that know me and seek me out when they have problems, and (guilty pleasure) switching off the lights in the Graduate Study Rooms one by one, starting with the furthest away and ending with the closest, so I could pretend I was in a sci-fi corridor and the unknown alien presence was on its way.
And soon![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
pridehouse will be at an end - by Thursday noon, the place needs to be empty and spotless. I got my full deposit back on the Pansexual House of Love and plan to repeat this pattern with the judicious application of elbow grease and bleach-based cleaning products.
An ending, and a beginning. I still don't have a new job but I live in hope. Always, and about everything, I live in hope. Sometimes I think about my career, about information management, about making democracy more effective through better informing the populace. Sometimes I know that the only way to pursue these dreams will be to move to London. That I'll stagnate as long as I cling on to this place and all the self-actualisation it has allowed me. I should take that wonderful rock-solid core of me-ness, cherish it, and move on to the next stage. But on the roofs of Oxford, I know: this place has trapped me with freedom, and I will not get away so easily.
I am going to miss conversations with co-workers (library staff - they are at right-angles to "reality" and I love them for it), the readers that know me and seek me out when they have problems, and (guilty pleasure) switching off the lights in the Graduate Study Rooms one by one, starting with the furthest away and ending with the closest, so I could pretend I was in a sci-fi corridor and the unknown alien presence was on its way.
And soon
pridehouse will be at an end - by Thursday noon, the place needs to be empty and spotless. I got my full deposit back on the Pansexual House of Love and plan to repeat this pattern with the judicious application of elbow grease and bleach-based cleaning products.An ending, and a beginning. I still don't have a new job but I live in hope. Always, and about everything, I live in hope. Sometimes I think about my career, about information management, about making democracy more effective through better informing the populace. Sometimes I know that the only way to pursue these dreams will be to move to London. That I'll stagnate as long as I cling on to this place and all the self-actualisation it has allowed me. I should take that wonderful rock-solid core of me-ness, cherish it, and move on to the next stage. But on the roofs of Oxford, I know: this place has trapped me with freedom, and I will not get away so easily.
