So I only have three days left in the office. My projects are in pretty good shape, and now the ugly task of cleaning my workspace is to begin. I have many thousands of manuscript pages to toss, files to get into a shape that other people can make sense of, and personal effects to remove. In a sense, it’s like I’m moving out of an apartment, have packed everything I actually want, and am now staring at the crap I don’t want but can’t quite throw away, and I have to leave the place spotless or else I won’t get my deposit back. As usual, a long holiday weekend looms at the worst possible time for me. If only I could have all of next week to work, I could whip my corner into a shiny little factory of order and efficiency. Instead, I’ll be lugging work home, waking in the middle of the night to fret about some small task I’ve forgotten (ack, like the fact that I still haven’t officially handed in my resignation!), and racing around in a frenzy during my final two days in the office next week. Everything will get done, but it won’t be pretty.