a day without me

Well glory be.

I have been laterally promoted to a new position at work and will be joining the ranks of nine-to-fivers Monday-through-Friday. As a result, this previous Sunday was my final Sunday shift at the igloo*, and I knew it had to be a little something special.

I've had this Sunday shift for what seems like an eternity, and it's been really hard. Sundays should be spent chillaxing with friends after church, not dealing with children pretending to be their parents. To combat this dread (and to ensure that my personal feelings don't bleed into the team), I've gone out of my way to make Sundays ridiculous and over the top.

We've done plenty - carefully researched presentations about beloved childhood literature, fondue parties, twin day, all 90s Music Request Weekend - but only one era could capture the ridiculousness that is Sundays...

The 1980s.
Obviously 80s parties aren't breaking any new ground, but it was a good time. We brought in food and had a potluck. We played foosball. I got some wicked pictures. We listened to forgotten 80s classics and relived Saturday morning cartoons.

I was profoundly sad when 8pm rolled around. As much as I am looking forward to the new normal, I will miss my crew. I am blessed to have worked with truly remarkable people.

22.6.08. Cropped to 3X5.

*yes, a pun since we deal with penguins, but fact as well. I swear, they keep the temperture nailed at 17 degrees in the summer. It is ridiculous to be bundled up in jeans and sweatshirts while it's 30 degrees outside, but also necessary to survive.

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