This morning, I arrived at the building a bit earlier than usual. I grabbed my keyboard and mouse from the locker and connected them one by one, like a puzzle. Sometimes, I realize I’m stuck in a loop, doing the same things over and over, and I wonder, ‘How long have I been doing this?’ It’s my fourth year using this locker. After confirming the monitor lights up, I stood up with the cup that I left on my desk. The coffee had dried up overnight, so I soaked and cleaned the cup before brewing a fresh one. The loud grinding of the coffee machine filled the air with a gentle aroma. ☕
It was a quiet Christmas Eve morning, but it was never bustling. Perhaps many were on vacation because even past ten, the office felt empty and lonely. As I reopened the Excel sheet, trying to recall yesterday’s battle with data, the director messaged, asking to meet briefly.
‘Today is my last day here.’
What does that mean?
‘I’ve worked hard, so I have no regrets.’
Though the words were spoken calmly, I could sense something was different this time. 🌅
‘I’m having lunch with the boss and heading out straight from the underground parking. Could you bring a few of my packed items when I call you?’
When will I ever learn what to say in moments like these?
The director left a bit earlier, and since I had plans to lunch with a friend nearby, I exited the building too. It was pretty chilly in the morning, but by afternoon, the weather had warmed up. Who knew it could be warmer outside than inside during winter? Life is full of experiences that don’t make sense, but they aren’t necessarily important. I began walking slowly to the meeting spot. Arriving first, I ordered from the menu my friend had texted me. She hurried in, talking as she took off her coat.
‘Can we order some dumplings too?’
Of course! I had already ordered them. While enjoying our beef noodle soup, we exchanged a few work stories. She talked about her team leader, and I shared about the director. It felt strange, like I was listening to someone else’s story while speaking my own. 🍜
The director was the hardest-working person I knew. He barely took any vacation the whole year and finally took a half-day off last Thursday, the first one I remember. ✈️
‘Take a whole day off. A half-day ends as soon as you step out of the building.’
The director smiled silently. But the next day, I heard about a pretty cool day off. He went home, changed into comfy clothes, and spent time chatting with his daughter, who had come home early after her exams. They talked for a while, and it was still bright outside, which he loved. He felt happiness in the sunlight reflecting off the window frame. Just not being in the office under the weekday sun was refreshing. After sharing a snack, his daughter went to meet friends, and he lounged on the sofa, turning on the TV. He finally got to explore Netflix, which he’d subscribed to but never really watched. Navigating through curated titles was delightful. After browsing movie stills for a while, he drifted off to sleep—a peaceful weekday nap. It hadn’t even been a week since that blissful half-day off. 🌞
I loaded the packed items into the back seat, carefully stacking them so they wouldn’t topple during the drive. The director usually drove with a rough edge. Memories of stacking the items like a puzzle lingered in my mind. How did I say goodbye? I can’t recall. Maybe he told me something important, or perhaps he thanked me. Though I was the one feeling grateful, I couldn’t say a word. As always, the director drove smoothly out of the narrow parking lot, and I returned to the office. The space felt even colder and more desolate than in the morning. 🌆
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