I submitted my resignation letter a week ago.
Of course, there’s nothing overly dramatic about that. I have known for ages when I would quit exactly, so as far as I’m concerned it’s old news. Making it official triggered some psychological responses though, responses that were initially hard to grasp. I wasn’t exactly sad, because I am far too happy about going home, to be continuing my studies, to be moving to a new place again, to feel any sadness.
There was the usual apprehension and a slight knot of worry as I mull over the logistical issues of packing and moving. There was also the usual wistful pangs as I contemplate leaving the life I have chalked up here and the people whom I have been lucky to met.
Most importantly, there was also something more, something that I can’t find the proper word for. It’s not exactly “regret”, because I think the word “regret” evokes a very strong, powerful emotion, something with very serious and far-reaching implications. Yet it could be construed as a oversimplified, very mild and harmless form of regret – something that perhaps can be described as, after having grown in the past year, having looked back and learnt the lessons and spotted the differences, the usual thoughts surface: if only………….
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Can’t get finance? Why, they’ll be happy to get it for you, it seems. I pass this used car garage every morning on my way to work. Having nothing else to look at I constantly scope out the prices of the offered cars and wonder if I can afford one. The signboard was posted late last year/early this year, when the economy plunged into free fall.

This double-carriageway road is well-used and busy, and is liable to clog up with traffic during the morning rush hours. Not that you can see it from that picture . On that particular morning, cars travelled at perhaps 10 mph. IF they even deigned to get on the road in the first place.
Because travelling at 10mph is rather slow – and it was apparently not possible to go much faster – the office announced that people can start leaving at lunch. That was funny because some people only managed to get in just before lunch, after hours of inching through the snow.
Staying was obviously no problem for me, so I stayed and worked on. By 3pm the office was nearly empty. I left at 4:30, not because I was bored, but there was only one more person in the office, and I had a feeling he was waiting for me to leave so he could leave.

My office in all its steel-clad glory. Bullnose canopy, aluminium louvers and aluminium-framed glazing, white render walls, some jutting-punching-through volume kinda thing, as well as the plain silver steel panels – almost standard elements and materials used in much of the firm’s earlier work.
Sometimes when I look at this building it seems that the message that they’re trying to say is – This is us, and this is our work. If you like what you see, come on in.
I have to say, it does get a little repetitive drawing the same things over and over at times. It does seem like there’s been a little bit more variety recently though, which is definitely not a bad thing in my book.