And yet, somehow, there was less fanfare than I thought there would be upon my arrival. No trumpets were blaring, and no tinker tape was thrown at me from high above as I drove to my apartment last night. The only thing that I received was a sense of the inevitability of work.
Oh well; another day, another dollar, as they say. However, as I'm earning that dollar, I find myself more and more intrigued at what got done and what didn't get done while I was away. This almost makes a guy feel important. Well, it does up until he realizes that the company existed before him and will likely continue to exist after him.
But, for right now at least, I've caught a glimpse of being important. Perhaps my work is my fanfare, and I simply do not know how to hear the joyous melodies in general, and it is only in being gone that I come to appreciate them.
If that's not depressing, I don't know what is.
1 day ago
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