Last Day

I can't really describe this feeling with any other words than sad and strange. I left The Post at about 4 today. All of us who have taken the buy out were to leave by 5, but I couldn't stay any more. I hauled all my camera gear to the studio to log all of it. M trunk has not been so clear in six years. I don't really care for it much, but maybe the lack of weight will help with gas efficiency?
I did have an assignment this morning to photograph a cop who started a camera surveillance program in the city. It seemed fitting considering my jetta was broken into my first night in West Palm Beach!
Gathering all my things at my desk was quite a project too. My friends were quick to respond to my question of "Who wants my lamp and who wants my twinkle lights?". That was nice. The photo department is often refered to as "the lounge" because it's always so dark and each desk is lit only by whatever light each shooter has provided for themselves. I had a small lamp and a string of lights.
All week, people have been asking me how I'm feeling about things and I have not been able to really answer in a succinct way. I have felt, for the most part, together considering the situation. That all ended with my first goodbye hug with one of my coworkers. Then, it was a struggle to not make a complete blubbering ass out of myself. I managed OK.

Then, I got home and cried lots. The dog, who was sitting at my feel for a bit got up and went to the other room. Apparently my weeping offends him.

I also got a letter today from the publisher. It was a letter for subscribers and somehow, the timing was hilarious; paraphrasing, it basically said that the exceptional reporting at the paper, which is going to be smaller by the way, comes at a cost and, sorry, but your rate will go up at the end of August and have a nice day!