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Yesterday was Julian’s last day. After 14 years, he was leaving the magazine, so we took him out for lunch and then went for a drink after work to celebrate his new-found freedom.

We weren’t entirely surprised that he arrived late for his own leaving lunch. Fortunately we were eating just down the road, and it was very casual, but we had bought him some very appropriate presents: alarm clocks. Eight of them, so we could each give him one, each wrapped and disguised in a different way so he wouldn’t know what they were when we first passed them over.

They were all each set to go off at half one, too, leaving him with pockets stuffed full of ringing clocks, and the owner of the restaurant looking very confused. Their beeping was identical to the beeps made by the keys of his till.

We mooched back to work a couple of hours late and did some proofing, before bowling upstairs to eat cake as he was given his proper presents, and then decamped to the pub.

Considering how long he’d been there, it wasn’t surprising just about everyone had turned out to see him on his way - including some people who haven’t worked at - or for - the magazine in years.

Had a phone call from the agent looking after my flat in the meantime. She’s found another tenant, apparently, although they don’t want to rent somewhere furnished. I’d say that actually meant she hadn’t found another tenant considering I said specifically that I wanted to let it furnished, but… hmmm. So, what do I do? Do I take out all the furniture, dispose of some of it and see what of the rest I can re-house, or do I stick to my guns, pass up the potential of another

This entry was posted on Friday, March 25th, 2005 at 6:03 pm and is filed under Journal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.