While preparing to do my janitorial duties for today, I enter the basement staircase to grab my broom. As my fingers touch the plastic handle, it hits me.
These brooms won't last for ever.
This job won't last for ever.
I'm leaving in five months, and once I go, things will never be the same.
I won't be on the "inside" of Binimea anymore. I'll be an outsider, left with only the memory of once being on the inside.
Am I ready for this?
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These brief words will last you a lifetime of nostalgia, I think :]
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