I hate saying goodbye.  I really, really hate it.  So many of my friends live in other states (most of them friends that I’ve kept in touch with from college) that I’ve had to say goodbye often.  Too many times.  It hurts every time and never gets any easier.  And so when I find a friend here in town, it about breaks my heart to see them leave.

One of my co-workers, Andy, has decided to leave us for the lights of Los Angeles.  Damn him.  LOL Okay, no, I’m really happy for him.  I know that he considers L.A. to be his home and he has a fantastic new job waiting for him that is everything he wants.  But I still hate it.  He really livened up the department.  He has a fantastic sense of humor, very sarcastic, and very witty.  He pretty much just says whatever pops into his head.

We said our goodbyes to him yesterday, guessing that he would probably be gone by the time we came in today.  Sure enough, he had already left by the time the night shift came in.  The feel of the department has already changed.  It’s already much quieter :o) and to be honest, a bit more depressing.  I wonder if he realizes how big of an impact he made on all of us.

We’ve all exchanged contact information with promises to keep in touch, and I hope that that actually happens and doesn’t end up the way of most similar promises.  A couple of my other friends are moving to L.A., as well, in the fall, and Andy has invited me to lunch, or at least to get together and play catch-up when I come to see them.  Hopefully we’ll be able to make it happen.

Anyway.  All of this is to say that I hate saying goodbye.  It blows.