This one is bittersweet. Today was my last day in my first office. I've had the office for a little over a year, I believe; shortly after I became a copywriter, they moved me out of my cubicle into this space.



But now we're moving. Not far; my company currently rents half of the 4th floor and half of the 5th, and now they're renovating the 5th and taking over the whole thing. But there are fewer offices, so anyone not at a director level or higher is going into a cubicle.

It wasn't like the most gorgeous office (though it did look cuter than this, thanks to some decorative items NT and AS gave me for my last birthday, but now it's all packed up, to hopefully go in my cubicle if it fits). But it was mine and I so enjoyed feeling like I had my own space. With full walls and a door.

They're moving people gradually, so I've been packing gradually. But I heard I'm being moved Monday, and I likely won't be in the office, so I finished packing everything today.

I'm not grateful for being moved into a cubicle; in fact I'm a little concerned because my last cubicle was very out of the way from noise and traffic, and now I'll be in a row with a bunch of other people. But I sure was grateful for my office today, knowing I was about to lose it.

Not to be melodramatic, but getting my own office at the beginning of my writing career was a big boost of confidence, as well as being a place where I could shut the door when I needed to do some intense research or writing, or when I wanted to interview someone on speakerphone and record it. It gave me that little extra feeling that I'd grown up and moved up in the world, which was great because my first few months as a writer were nervewracking; it took me a while to feel that I was good at the job. Thanks in part to this office, I now feel that I'm very good at my job.

So thanks, office! And goodbye.