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Ciao

Dear Reader,

The hotel elevator stopped at the fourth floor and a man got on.

He looked at me.
I looked at him.

"What are you doing here?!" he asked in an Italian accent.
"What are you doing here?!" I replied in my American one.

We kissed each other on the cheek and chatted over breakfast.

Being back in Cambridge and Windsor at my former offices feels both strange and comfortable.  People keep asking me where I am living these days and I tell them, "All my stuff is in my car.  I'm grateful to the company for getting me the hotel room.  It's nice to be able to shower."  Some of them hesitate as if they think it could possibly be true and they're not sure how they should respond.  Others of my American former coworkers no longer recognize me and look at me oddly when I wave hello.

But perhaps the strangest feeling comes from the power shift I felt sitting across a desk from my former boss (the one who was once surprised to find out that I consider myself to be technical) and knowing that no matter how frequently I (politely and professionally) challenge his opinion, he no longer has any real influence over my daily work life or career.

Wherever I am, even if the trunk of my car is stuffed full and my passport is permanently in my handbag, I think I am in a better place than I was in when I left these offices 15 months ago; now I can even look forward to seeing them again.  And no one is more surprised by this than I am.

Ciao,
~~ LeAn

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