A Sad Friday

They are really gone. I suppose it will be very evident on Monday. There will just be three of us in the room on that day. Idalia will be working the Service Desk, ordering people's computers and software. Dean will be chatting with (assisting) India on Instant Messager. And I will be trying to knit the lose ends of the project into whole cloth.

We invited all of IT and others to a final goodbye for Gernard and Cynthia. Shelli got two fabulous cakes. Not only did they look pretty, they tasted really good. My mom used to bake birthday cakes for the four of us. It was always the same, strawberries and cream for the girls and devil's food for the boys. We carried on that tradition.

It was a simple, sweet good-bye. Both will be taking time off to be with family and then finding that job that makes them happy. Cynthia says she wants to be a school bus driver. She is the most forthright, blunt, straight-talking person I know. That bus would be quiet. She is also the dearest woman. And very fashionable. I'd always ask her how she liked something new that I was wearing. Humm. I wonder if she was always honest. We decided that my next career would be to develop a fashion line for those without any fashion sense. Someone else suggested that the clothing line should be for men. They seem to have the least fashion sense, after me.
Cynthia is modeling the items that Laura from Chicago sent to me. The apron says "This Help Desk is Closed." The cup says "Call India." Everyone on Laura's helpdesk left Friday. That is the goal. Everybody out. We're moving a little slower - thank you Harriet and Bill. Laura is left alone to knit lose ends AND answer questions called in. Yikes.

I don't do Retail Therapy, I do Salon Therapy. I finally got my hair cut on Saturday. I will look good on Monday as I weep for the loss of my good friends. (okay, that sounds like they died. I believe both danced out the door. So maybe I'll just be weeping for me.)