Cleaning Day

I've just completed Phase I of The Cleaning Out of My Desk and Surrounding Area. I found that, in over four years in one place, I've acquired an obscene amount of stuff. Even for me.

I taped all of the good fortunes from my many Chinese-takeout bags to the credenza behind my desk. I took them down, one by one, intending to throw them away. But some of them are just too good to dispose of, so I'm keeping them in my little Bank time capsule:

"You will show what you are capable of."

"A lifetime of happiness lies ahead of you."

"Nothing in the world is accomplished without passion."

"You will be attracted to an older, more experienced person!"

and, my favorite,

"You are a lover of words, someday you will write a book."

In my desk I've found notes from customers, written in my absence and left on my desk for me to find upon my return from lunch or a break. I've found an enormous collection of packages of brightly colored post-it notes. I've found birthday cards from co-workers, remnants of Christmas and birthday packages I've opened in this chair. I found my old checkbook register, about a million deposit tickets, five bottles of lotion, a brand new toothbrush and travel toothpaste. Rolaids, Advil, a can of Progresso soup, a bag of Pop Secret, a bag of individually-wrapped Lifesavers, a single York Peppermint Patty, an unopened bottle of water, a T-shirt boasting my bank's name.

I've found each and every miniature card that was at one time accompanied by various bouquets of flowers sent to me here at the bank. From Mom, from my boss, from my Ex-Fiancee, from my ex.

I found, too, a picture frame given to me by Pollo in March of 2004, where I'm holding her then three-day-old son, Adrian. The frame folds in on itself and holds two pictures. The other picture is also of me holding the baby, but Tom is there with his arm wrapped around me. We two display broad smiles, Adrian looking up at me with that apparent look of shock on his face that all newborns sport. I had forgotten about that picture, tucked it way at the bottom of a drawer when Tom and I broke up. Looking at it today, it made me smile. The smile I wore in the photo was real, giving no indication of the sadness I was sure I carried for so long. There were good times, too. But it felt good to fold it back together and put it away, knowing that even that was behind me.

Because in my top desk drawer rested mementos of my present: My new boss' business card, and a florist's card in Billy's handwriting "Happy Birthday, you sexy bitch. Love, B."

According to the Middletown Times Herald Record, my horoscope for today is:

Everything is going your way. You will know exactly
what's expected of you and how to make the most of your
current position. Don't worry about professional changes
going on.

I think they're right. Everything is going my way right now. Billy's more amazing a man than I ever thought I could find. My new job promises financial success and room for growth. God, I feel so happy. And ready to clean out my dusty desk, and my musty memories, and move on.