Today, I got to have the entire office to myself since the majority of my team was out. It was nice. A large room with my free dell speakers playing Keane and Snow Patrol. A slight bass. This is a rare time that I can do that when I try to always be considerate of my housemates and their music tastes. To pump up the music and not worry that others will not appreciate it.

Last summer, I had that luxury of playing music (loud and unconcerned) in my car. Oh last summer. It has been exactly one year since I met Chris. It has been one year since I invented the words closing time syndrome – a syndrome where people see others as much better because time is running out. Last summer, Chris saw me like that. It was one of the strangest, oddest periods of my life. I was given the job of lead technical coordinator. I was preparing to move across the country. And my parents were on my case as a result.

A moment like this:

He was sitting across from me, trying to install drives on the new security servers. I was there with my powerbook, not really wanting to do work, mostly idling with my usual Internet surfing. Suddenly he said, \”Guess what! Guess what!\”

\”What? What?\” I asked with a smile, an eyebrow raised.

\”I am going to miss you,\” he replied and gave me this nostalgic look

There is a lot more to the story, but he had the closing time syndrome. Wherever we go, we don\’t realize that there are some people that we won\’t ever see again. We never know if a \”see you later\” will translate to a permanent goodbye. And I wonder whether I\’ll have that as people in my program are leaving in early August. This time it\’s different. Almost everyone is heading to a place I will definitely visit in less than a year. There are no unforgotten strings or broken promises. There are only longlasting friendships and a sincere \”I\’ll see you soon!\”