While it started off like any other day, which in itself wasn’t too bad, and while I didn’t have a spring in my step, which may well be a symptom of old age, I was in a positive mood and glad of the many things in my life. I woke up at quarter past six, yawned my way through my morning ablutions, and went to work in my diurnal, quotidian manner. I did meet up colleagues for an impromptu breakfast at our previous work haunt near Rembrandtplein – and it felt strangely like I was an outsider going to school for the first time. Discounting the thick, gray clouds, it was nice to revisit familiar views.
An hour later, I was off to regular programming at our current office several minutes’ walk away. As I sat there working, with every regular phone beep I could virtually hear my facebook and IM apps reminding me how special my day was supposed to be. It felt good to be remembered. Going against the norm, I did opt not to broadcast the news to everyone in the office though deep down I was hoping I had the wherewithal to get some cake to at least celebrate in some small way. Maybe next year if I’m still around?
Though the thought that I should have taken the day off came to mind several times and even if it only comes once every 365 days, I’m glad I did go to work. It isn’t too often that I’m gainfully employed at a company I actually like working for, at a job I’m lucky to have given my current circumstances.
I can party on later.