Remember, Remember the Fifth of Marchember

I've cleared all my things and I've put them in boxes. Well, sacks, technically. Not boxes. And some things are just stacked on my desk. I've pulled out the pushpins and taken down the dozens of line-drawn Married to the Sea comics, and my 2007 magnetic poetry calendar that is turned to the blank page past December, and the map of Zork I that I put up my first week I worked here, and the disapproving rabbit who says he does not approve of lolcats I got from a distant co-worker who was tickled by my lolcat coztum at Halloween. I stacked them flat on a pile of a sundry cubicle hangings and vaguely relevant work-related papers. My drawers are emptied of last April's review, and my scissors and tape I use for wrapping presents at work, and my orientation packet, and the packets of Taco Bell hot sauce and jars of tomato sauce that inexplicably found sitting on my keyboard two mornings the same month last Summer, and the 'Light Jazz' CD Dan made for me that's actually all video game techno, and the three minature pirates and their pirate launching gun Nicholas gave me for Halloween (the only toy I afford myself; I'm not interested in displayed who I am by what I own (if I can help it)), and the Bad Driver's Desk Calendar that Juliet and Jeremy gave me that I was dedicated to through April 19th apparently. My upper shelf is cleared of my book of selected C.S. Lewis sayings, and Amy Tan's memoirs, and the complete John Donne, and my 1931 edition Shakespeare textbook. None of which I think I've ever read more than a few pages of at work. I've also moved the clone of the cursed keyboard that's been at the desk of the last three guys who were asked to leave here.

I've said goodbyes to all the guys on my row. Phil, another guy like Sam Wright with whom I went to college but didn't know, but wish I had. And Sam, the other former school teacher whose great work here I think helped solidify my employment out of former occupational comparision. And Jeff, the new guy, father of six, genius scripter. And, of course, Nicholas, but I'll see him outside of work, seeing as how we married sisters. And let's not forget my direct supervisor Josh, the guy here I didn't know before I think I've connected with best. A good game player no matter what he's playing, with a great memory for all kinds of useful minutiae, not just trivia, and a great leader. A guy who'd I'd work with just about anywhere doing just about anything. I'm pretty egoistical, and there aren't a lot of people I follow naturally. But Josh is one of them. Usually, I have to work at it pretty hard to follow someone. Not Josh. Without exception, these are all guys who should be getting paid twice as much and immediate promotions.

That's right, folks, I'm movin' cubicles.

I know, I know, it's only 12 feet and on a different aisle. But it feels like I'm going to a new job. I've been on the central team since I got here. These are the guys who I fire up Scorched Earth 3d with, who were the heart of our KOL clan Flame Retarted (where everythign is spleled wrogn!), the guys who I laugh at the same jokes with, who I send funny and interesting links to, who usually have already seen the links before I send them and laugh anyway. The guys who do their monthly password changes before on time, and usually end up doing the other team's, too. And let's not even look at customer service, and call stats. Oh, and getting to talk to midwestern people on the phone all day? They're hecka nicer to talk to than coastal people. New Jersey, I'ma lookin' at you. Squah in the . . .

When I learned I could get the 8-5 instead of 9-6, I considered it for a day before saying yes. I knew it was a good idea, but I thought I might be tired with an earlier morning. But it turns out that with carpooling, I'd only getting to work 25 minutes earlier, but out an hour earlier. And Jill convinced me it was the best idea, too good to pass up. It means less time for Adam and Jill to wait around for me, and an earlier time home. Which means I get to hang out with Jill before seven 0'clock events, not after them, when we're tired. So I said yes.

But then I found out that it also meant a shift to the East side since Phil is already at the 8-5 for central. I almost turned it down right off. East team means a lot of east coasters with bad attitudes (New Jersey, I'ma lookin' at you, again), and dealing with a (admittedly) cool group of guys, but not nearly as cool. Ok, except Dan. Dan's a central teamer if there ever was one. And a team lead who's ok, but no Josh. Not by any stretch. And I guess Stephen is ok. But only if he ends up reading this.

But the extra time with Jill won out, and here I am, moving my sacks and stacks at 8:30 tomorrow morning. I get to keep my headset, and my computer, and my chair, which is nice. They're all what I'm used to. But I don't get to keep my team. And that sucks.

They say you can't go back, things change. But 'they' are shadowyly illuminated as a rule, and I don't trust people in shadows; they're as sketchy as they come. As soon as I can, I am so back.