Movin' on up. . .

Except not so much "up" as "over."

During these wonderful economic times, I am happy to have a job. Even before the times got crappy (when you have zero, it's difficult to get too upset over a 30% loss of zero), I was happy to have my job. The work, talking to people from all over the country (and world) all day, is not the draw. The salary, though very fair and raise-able, is not the draw (though it has been nice working for a company where bonus no longer = Christmas ham). The hours, after years of nights, weekends and holidays at other jobs, are regular and pleasing-but they are not the draw. The benefits, the ones that give me great medical and retirement (even if I don't use it) coverage, and that pay for my school, are not the draw.
Anyone who's ever worked in a large office (or anywhere for that matter) can acknowledge that the coworkers can make or break the deal. I have worked in some great jobs with some less than socially-skilled people. I have worked in some undesirable jobs (serving mashed potatoes to 1,200 of my closest classmates?), with some hilariously marvelous people.
This job, where the cubicles and fluorescent lights make the typical maze-daze of office/corporate world, could drive me crazy. It is tedious, most days. It is busy, frustrated, ever-changing information. It is STRUCTURED (hello, my name is Carrie, and I don't DO structure) and without creative outlets (sigh).
But the people. The PEOPLE. Are. The. Draw.
I have grown fond of many of my coworkers. Their humor and drive and ability to remember much more information than I can is endearing. But tomorrow I am being transferred with 1/2 of my department to a different team. Thank you for the job, yes. But I am leaving my two favorite people. I have had the most fun and the most laughs with both of these girls (calling us ladies sounds so OLD). I have seen each of them experience pain and joy, and they me. I have spent time with them in and out of the office, I count them as very dear friends. And tomorrow they will be light years away.
Not really light years. But certainly not close enough to randomly throw things at in the middle of the day. Or share an impromptu picnic between desks. sigh.
The people make this job for me. And though I never planned to stay at this job forever, I never counted on being separated from my girls. I will miss them, and I am sad. . . and a tad dramatic, no?