I can't believe it's already here. Today is my last day at work.
Before I continue I have to apologize for my emotional mushiness as of late. I swear I'm not normally this bad, and I won't continue to be a wreck forever. Just indulge me and my sappiness one last time. I hope to be back to my normal, caustic self in a few days. In the meantime, my waterproof mascara has been worth every penny.
When I started here two years ago I swore I wasn't going to make any friends. It was too hard to say goodbye, and besides, my dance card was full. I was going to come in every day and be civil, but keep my head low, do my work, and go home at the end of the day isolated and safe in my tiny bubble world.
It didn't happen that way. People made me laugh and invited me for lunch. I saw that coworkers and colleagues here actually cared about what was happening to one another outside of the hospital. People laughed and cried and laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Somehow I got pulled into the circle and found myself joining in on the bitching, the laughing, and the sharing. I'll always remember the limbo contests, the tap-dancing, the cartwheels... and the work. Right, the work. On the craziest days, on the best days, and on the worst, someone has always been able to make me laugh. In two short years I have made some of the closest friends I've ever had, friends that understand me better than anyone, friends that could be my sisters.
Today, I was honoured by the thoughtfulness that my coworkers extended -- a farewell gala, a million tear-inducing messages, and a donation to the Pattaya Orphanage in Thailand. I am stunned into silence and feel undeserving of such generosity.
Forming close relationships is hard when you have to leave their safety, but the rewards are well worth it.
Thank you, guys, for everything. Really.