On my way to the cash machine in the concourse level of my office building, I was greeted by a glass-enclosed replica of said building and its counterpart across the street. One of those 1:20 scale deals in which all the colors are muted and all the shrubbery identical. I assume the purpose of this professional architectural model is to demonstrate what will result from all the orange cones, netting, and hardhats around here these days. Thing is, concrete planters don't show up on that scale. Kinda like how, from an airplane, you can't see dents in cars, chipping paint jobs, or garbage. So it looks exactly the same. Great. It does appear, however, that they will replant the trees they uprooted out front.

In the less concrete (haha) but more noticeable realm, a higher-up in my division has announced his retirement. He apparently has integrated himself so fully into operations here that they have to promote three people to take over various aspects of his work. This personnel reorganization has also created an opportunity for physical reshuffling, and I have to switch to a different office, probably sometime this fall. Now, none of the offices in this building are anything fancy. They are all created with these tan modular metal dividing walls whose ease of rearrangement I'm sure seeemd terribly modern and efficient in the seventies. But mine is the best set-up an RA can hope for, square where most resemble wind tunnels, with the monitor facing the door and plenty of desk top space. And I have to give it up. Sigh.

I mentioned in a previous post that with this time of year comes the ritual changeover in the pool of people at my level. I realized as I was being introduced to a newbie the other day that I am now one of the jaded corps beginning their third year who will have to be coaxed out of their workout-cooking-domestic schedules into attending the whirlwind of barbeques and happy hours. And I felt old. Perhaps not old, though, but more certain of who I am and what I want. Realizing how little is to be gained from superficial meet'n'greets, I find the people I want on my own terms.

To end on a happy note, sometimes the revolving door brings people back. Former roommate Amy is returning to our nation's capital in August. Yay!


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