There are times in life that really suck. And there are times that don't. This is one of those times that truly and utterly do. For anyone who knows anything about my working environment, you know that Leppy (Otherwise known as Christene) is my confidant, my source of entertainment and one of the only reasons I haven't dove head first out of the window I sit at.
We were hired together. And I thought we would be fired together. But it looks as though Leppy has beat management to the punch and she's handed in her golden ticket, so to speak. She quit the team. And as much as I hate quitters, I simply cannot bring myself to hate her. There is only a pit of dread and sadness, where good times and belly laughs once resided.
I suppose I should act like an adult, shake her hand, and say, "It's been a slice, my friend." But alas, I cannot bring myself to do it. So for the past week I have been silently stewing, wiping the rogue tears which manage to escape away and crossing my arms against my chest. If my depression over this even gets any worse I will have to dye my hair black, put on Dashboard Confessional and slam my door whilst screaming, "No one understands!"
The truth is, I am sure people feel they understand. But here's why they don't. They don't know Leppy. For three years, she's been the ying to my yang, the Salt to my Peppa and the laughter to my horrible jokes. If ever I needed someone to confirm something, Leppy was there, confirming it. If ever I need someone to join in while I sang City High's What Would You Do, Leppy was there singing it. If ever I needed some stray piece of art to show up at my desk, Leppy was there, delivering it.
This is an end to an era. And I am completely broken hearted and devastated. In these three years, we've been through so much. Two weddings, a funeral, a divorce, a first date, two proposals, two car accidents, two desk moves, a handful of food days, a couple ridiculous meetings, the downfall of business casual, a couple pairs of Converse shoes, a whole lotta Red Vines, a puffy foot scare, a rather unpleasant Master Cleanse, a bundle of amusing lunches and hours upon hours of hilarity.
But they say all things must come to an end, and this is no exception. And while I am taking it hard, and trying to stop the tears welling in my eyes, I send Leppy off into the world with a hug and a kiss. She'll be just fine. It's me I'm worried about. After all, who the hell is going to know what I am talking about when I want to revisit Mr. Belvedere or have a discussion about WWF and the term 'Suck It'. Sigh.
Good Luck, Leppy.
This ones for you.