I was asked to document my last two weeks in which I still have a corporate identity. Well, they started out under unblemished skys and total disaster on the road to the temporary capital of Europe. Late arrivals, no arrivals, changing work scedules and for most, and early departure for some was the flavor of the week. Already last month, I had taken leave of most features along the road. I consciously had done all the usual things more mindful, as a goodbye. This week however turned hectic and that was just fine since because of this, it turned out to feel like just any other week. It was good to do the normal work and to end in beauty with a high-powered meeting. Yet there was melancholy. The changes, knowing that in a weeks time, the corporate identity will have been stripped off, the strange irregular structure of life will fade away and absences from home will become presences which may weigh on those used to have me out of their hair. New life plans will develop in living them day by day. The skies are streaked again. Normalty of meetings, packing unpacking still lingers. I wonder will there be cabin fever, or will literary activities take hold more firmly and fully. Will I be less hasty? Learn not to interrupt people, will I... Will we... Questions and doubts, how to work out the balance of distance and nearness. Had I been able to write every day, I might have commented on the joy of doing a good job till the last day, knowing one stops working when still going strong. I might have written on being critical and working hard at not becoming cynical in working in a highly political environment. I feel vulnerable and glad, even liberated for a few moments. Skipper ahoy, in a week I am sailing out with red tears and new fire... for shared futures and shared shores.