first/last post from work.

They're moving my cubicle on Monday, so I've spent the morning packing up all my things into "Corporate Express" printer paper boxes. I feel like I'm being fired or something--but in fictional depictions of packing up one's office possessions, the victim always has but one box, even if they're a senior executive. Whereas, despite being a lowly intern and merely relocated rather than fired, I have four huge ones. Anyway, I'm reading Coetzee rewriting Dostoevksy's life and trying to write about Hemingway and I hear there's this Pynchon book club starting on Monday...and I have to go catch my bus.