Chuck/Vanessa/Jeanie/Eddie,

Today is my first day out at my new home. I actually arrived on Saturday, but Monday always feels like real beginnings of things. Like we always said “I will get started on that on Monday”. So I’m writing you this letter over my Monday morning coffee (still tastes like world’s best thing) and calling it my first day.

It may come as a surprise how much I’m going with share about myself, in this and I believe multiple subsequent letters. More than I had ever shared throughout the ten years we worked together. It once was my deliberate choice to never wander too far past the line between personal and professional.

There were a few exceptions if you recall. Especially when Barry was let go last year, and the bunch of us took him out on his last day. My memory is not clear, except for the part when I went on about how hard it was to work for Jennifer-the-Managing-Director. That part I remember, because even in the drunken moment I wondered if I overshared and she would find out and what happened to Barry would happen to me. Then nothing came of it. So I knew two things: either one, you were all trust-worthy, or two, my policy of never sharing too much unless everyone had at least three drinks actually was sound. Or both.

Anyway the day after I found a video on my phone. We were sitting by the bar of that Sushi restaurant with black and red half-curtains. They closed for business but the evening staff were all out taking sake bombs with us. Teriyaki beef slices were sizzling on the hibachi iron and smoke was coming up. We fell down the high tops laughing when meat was flipped into the drinks and Barry fished it out with his hand and ate it and yelped “hot hot!”

All ten years at the firm, that was the night I let my emotions go wherever it wanted. When we watched Barry getting into his cab in the small hours of Saturday morning, I thought perhaps that was my happiest and saddest night at the same time. He spent twenty-five years in that office. It took him getting fired for me to find out Barry played in rock band on the weekend.

I decided to write not to just reminisce about the past though. In the weeks of preparing for this new life, including the four thousand miles I drove to get here, I’ve been thinking about our corporate existence, what we share for people to know, and what we don’t share but people still know.

While looking at nothing but cornfield rushing past my car window for hundreds and hundreds of miles, I thought about why the cocktails are always the strongest like sugary poison when we welcome new comers, why on certain Mondays some of us really do have to take Adderall just to start processing emails, why we dig for gossips so viciously like bloodhounds, obliterating any chances of authentic friendship. I also thought about Jennifer-the-Managing-Director too, believe or not :).

And being the Analyst on the team, I suspect I will continue to think about it until my new life starts to occupy more and more of my mind, and our office on the Eighth Avenue starts to fade. But that will not be for a while.

Until then, I think maybe what I’m going through and reflecting on can benefit you, those who remain, in some helpful ways. Because you have all the time to feel, but no time to think. I, on the other hand, have all the time to think now.

Wishing you all the very best.

Until next time…

Your truly,

Adam