Giving Notice

We gave notice today.  Notice to the alarm clock that we’ll stop setting it for 6:45 AM each weekday.  Notice to the bus driver that we’ll not be boarding out on busy, stinky Lake City Way in the early morning. I’m giving notice to all those smokers I have to pass by on my way into the building where I work.  Will they notice my absence?

And we gave notice to our bosses and co-workers at work, both Beechers and Harborview, all good people who have been good to us and as fair as can be.

I gave notice to more than half of my wardrobe that I’ll soon be taking to the Goodwill.  Goodbye dress shirts and corduroy pants.  Hello shorts! 

We gave notice to the every afternoon Seattle traffic jam when we sit on the bus and watch drivers block intersections, creating gridlock.  We gave notice to all those people who stand on the sidewalk, walk on the sidewalk, sit on busses, and ride in elevators while always, always staring at iPods, iPhones, Androids, or Kindels while the world around them passes by in silence.

I say goodbye to rent, phone bills, utility bills, and insurance. The payroll department gave me notice that my paychecks will soon cease.

Yes, we've taken that big step to sever ourselves from our Seattle world. Now we're down to a timetable of making lists and checking off items.  Get rid of that, stash the other, loan out this, repack, rethink, and reduce what we have down to a small car load of stuff that will fit in the Honda.  By mid September we'll be unemployed.  By the end of September we'll be gone from the state.  We'll spend the month of October in Ensenada prepping the boat and head south when we're done.

We've given notice.