The office is moving today (and all weekend) into a kick-ass new space four blocks north of where we've been for the past three years (and we'll be waaaay closer to shopping, transportation, more shopping and the newest franchise of my favorite fast food emporium). Woo-hoo!
So today is all about checking off our lasts:
- Last status meeting in our ugly conference room
- Last look at our spectacular views of the Wrigley Building, the Jewelers' Building, the western skyline and the the northern neighborhood where we're about to move
- Last pee in the short urinal
- Last whiff of the scary old fridge in the kitchen
- Last workout at the tired old gym across the street
- Last 25-cent soda from the cheap machine that unfortunately isn't coming with us
Fortunately, the only thing that will change about my commute is the considerably shorter walk between the EL and the office.
And speaking of the EL, I had another one of those almost moments on it this morning. I got on and immediately locked eyes with this really handsome guy -- the kind whose effortless beauty comes from good genes, a good fitness ethic and what appeared (in a romantic-first-impression kind of way) to be a genuinely good soul. He was in his early 40s with short salt-and-pepper hair, an earnest smile and an obvious mutual interest in me.
Of course, I did what any moron would do and I sat directly in front of him so we couldn't make eye contact or strike up a conversation or anything else you'd expect a single person with common sense to do in that situation. When he finally got up to get off the train, our eyes locked no fewer than 10 times, and he even stood on the platform as the train pulled away so we could smile at each other once more through the window.
But then again, there really is no graceful way for two people to subtly strike up a conversation on a crowded commuter train without a roomful of people listening in on your little mating ritual.
And besides, he was smaller than I am, so we couldn't share clothes. It would never have worked out.