An Empty Office

Being employed by a small, privately-held, company has distinct advantages. At my office, there is a noticeable lack of bureaucratic red tape and I cannot express how much easier it is to operate in this environment versus the slow-churning, multi-layered approval, political minefield that is a large, listed company. My working hours are more flexible, too, which enables me to be an effective wife and mother versus the robot I was in big corporate America. In a smaller company, you get to know your colleagues better because we all wear several hats and often, our projects overlap and mingle. They become like family.

Which makes it especially hard when someone leaves.

Last week, Steph the Magnificent put in her final days with us. I'm still struggling to adjust to her departure. She was my person, you know? She was the one that I would talk with about the weekend's events and kids and husbands and the stress. Steph is the reason I met and married Dallas. She had threatened to create a profile for me on eHarmony without my input if I didn't do it myself. She was the one that I covertly called on my first extended date with Dallas where I squealed with excitement in pitches that only a dog could hear. She was my colleague who evolved into my friend.

I hate that she's gone.

I have distinct memories of driving through the streets of Philly together jamming to "Brick House" or arriving at a shopping network's front doors for a sales call, which was a bit like Mecca for a girl like Steph, who has Martha Stewart blood coursing through her veins. One year, after our corporate Christmas party, we left with our spouses in tow and ended up in a bar playing pool like a couple of drunk sharks. Steph was pretty conservative at work but over the years, I got to see how hysterically funny she was.

This morning, I arrived at the darkened door to her office before I remembered that she wouldn't be there. Instantly, I felt a pang a sadness. Steph the Magnificent left for a better opportunity and I'm thrilled for her.

But I miss her.