It was a season of “lasts:” the last budget preparation at
year-end; the last 1.1 with each of her direct reports; the last meeting of
each of the many groups and committees of which she had been part for so many
years--the last this—the last that. She had loved her job these many years, and
she had wanted to finish well, had worked hard at leaving everything in perfect
shape for her successor. She was dutiful, committed, loyal and hardworking, no
one could say otherwise, but now, as she sat at her desk one morning when the
finish line was in sight, suddenly she felt an unfamiliar stirring within her, a sort of reckless abandonment
that was as intriguing as it was terrifying.
She glanced at the clock hanging above her desk and realized that she had completely lost track of time while working to finish a project before leaving for another of those “last” meetings. With a gasped, “Oh my goodness!” she quickly reigned in her thoughts, shut her laptop with a bang, and gathered her coat a…
She glanced at the clock hanging above her desk and realized that she had completely lost track of time while working to finish a project before leaving for another of those “last” meetings. With a gasped, “Oh my goodness!” she quickly reigned in her thoughts, shut her laptop with a bang, and gathered her coat a…