November 15, 2012
As you may recall, the company I work for now is not the same company I worked for on June 30. Except, of course, for the job and the boss and the office and the wages and the benefits and that Connie is still across the hall and Melanie is in the office next door and Courtney is downstairs (or would be if she weren’t on maternity leave). Really, the only major changes on July 1 were our name and tax ID number. (And most employees don’t even care about the latter. I do grant requests, so it comes up with some frequency for me. Not that I have either the old or the new one memorized. But I did have to update the number on some of the paperwork I send out regularly.)
There was one other change that those of us on the third floor, especially at my end of the hallway, have noticed. We don’t have board meetings anymore. Or more specifically, we don’t have leftovers from the board meetings anymore. The vast majority of us never had to attend the meetings, but we always benefited from them. Once a month there would be yogurt and granola, fruit salad, pastries or muffins, juice, and good coffee. Oh, I miss the good coffee! But June was the last time our board met because it was the last time the old company existed. (And they had eggs and sausage and hash browns for that meeting. And, yes, of course there were leftovers!) Occasionally there is a breakfast meeting, and occasionally that meeting’s leftovers are put in the kitchen at our end of the hall, but not with the regularity of our old board meetings.
For the most part, this has just been one of the things that changed that we all took in stride. Until this morning. Connie either forgot to bring something for breakfast or she was running late on her way out of the house this morning. However it happened, she was breakfastless today. And as is inevitable these days, no one was having a meeting on the third floor this morning. I did see a catering box at the reception desk when I entered the building at 6:45, but considering it was A) on the first floor and B) only one box, the chances there would be leftovers that would reach our kitchen were proved to be nonexistent.
That previous paragraph has a poor implication. It makes it sound like Connie did not take the lack of board meeting leftovers in stride. She most certainly has done so. She did bemoan the lack of leftovers with me. It was more one of those times where we got briefly nostalgic for the good old days of five months ago. One of those times where we sighed and then went on with our days. I asked around lunch time if she’d found something. She said she got a granola bar from the vending machine. It wasn’t very good.
And now I feel bad. When I got home and went to empty my lunch bag, I realized I had my emergency instant oatmeal packet. I could have given her something better to eat than an ancient vending machine granola bar. I’ll have to remember that should she ever forget breakfast again.