I tried posting yesterday afternoon, but I lost my post and couldn’t recover it. But the computer I was working on at Church is older than dirt. Well, it runs Windows 97. Close enough.
So last night, we told the kids that I’m leaving. Everyone took it really well, didn’t have too many questions and weren’t overly emotional, but were appropriately sad still. I feel really good about it. I was a wreck most of the day, in anticipation, but am so glad its over.
Liz bought me coffee after youth group. She’d had a really bad day as well. I was feeling great by this time, though. As Liz said, like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
I know I’ve said this a couple of times to a couple of people, so if you’ve heard it already, my apologies. I’ve been living for May since January, and now that it’s almost here, it’s… surreal. I don’t think that’s the right word. Let me check.
sur·re·al ([suh–ree–uhl, –reel])
- Having qualities attributed to or associated with surrealism: “Even with most facilities shut down… a few mavericks managed to slip into the park to sample the almost surreal emptiness before the shutdown ended.” (Peter H. King).
- Having an oddly dreamlike quality.
Yes, I’ll say that qualifies.
Tuesday night in my staff meeting, we decided that my last Sunday would be May 22, not the 29th. And then the 25th, our End of Year Picnic, would be my last thing. So, 27 days. Four weeks (and some change).