Out of the door and diving head first

Final day(s)

Cloakroom tickets and half-empty lip gloss pots invade my pockets, black and white ice skates across grey pavements and the sleepy sun strokes clear blue skies. Days are shortened by the undersupply of sunlight and oversupply of plans. The cold bites deeper and deeper with each day. Crackling my skin and making my eyes water. My final day at work. Final days of London and winter. Final day of debt and distress. 

I walk the familiar route from Bank to 77 Leadenhall Street for the last time. Trudging through the cold amidst a torrent of bustling suits. Entering the building, my keycard is already cancelled and setting off alarms. The bleeping a token of my imminent departure. Memories of the Christmas party linger as I stroll into the office to an assortment of familiar faces. Who will I see again? Who will I miss the most or most unexpectedly? Who will be there to say goodbye? The final moments before departure are always a jittery mystery. 

Excitement to leave and pursue exactly what I want clashes against the guilt of leaving. Moving forward, being pulled back, then pushing firmly ahead. What will I miss most? The people. In many ways I’m sad to leave. Will I ever work for such a fast-growing company with such a kind-hearted community? Perhaps not. But the negativity and uncertainty evaporates when I remember “every second spent not doing something you’re passionate about is a second wasted” (Thank you for telling me that). 

I don’t know much about work and the politics which encircle and sometimes strangle it. But I do know that the positivity here has the potential to overcome all obstacles. For me, authenticity rises above all and the overriding current of not being fully on-board in a sea of devoted individuals has been gnawing at me. Hopefully my parting will open the way for someone who is willing to submerge themselves in the deep sea of distressed debt, rather than swim straight up to the surface. 

The past seven or so months have been incredibly happy and perhaps I wouldn’t have had the confidence to return to Cairo if I hadn’t been in such a supportive, encouraging environment. It’s easier to dive from a firm base than a flimsy diving board. For now farewell and thank you for everything. Thank you for the memories, lessons and inspiration. Thank you for being you. 

I have walked into the warm, light office for the final time and later today I will walk out of it into the cold, dark evening. Goodbye 9fin, Leadenhall Street and everyone who brightened it up.