Cocktail ceremony

I went to work for the first official time today, and my commute was a little soggy.

I scanned my pass to get to the elevators, as if over two years haven't gone by.

I looked around at my desk and pulled out some pens from the same spot, as if over two years haven't gone by.

I gathered in a clump with my colleagues down the hall and chatted with them, as if over two years haven't gone by.

I rode the subway, took a bus, pulled my hood up over my head and fell into place with other commuters, as if over two years haven't gone by.

I got my usual lunch salad from the place that always has the line that curves around the corner, as if over two years haven't gone by.

And throughout the day I fight the urge to begin conversations with "so tell me who you are now, in this version of the world, tell me how has life changed you?"

Instead I went about the day, a pretty regular one, and then I came home.

But two years have gone by, and that's a big deal; some things deserve to be marked with ceremony and witnessing. So even though I'm not a big drinker I make myself a fancy cocktail and enjoy it on my balcony.

In this moment I reflect on who I was the last time I went in to work. I reflect on the ways my life has changed in that time, I reflect on this juncture in my life and all that the last two years have taught me. All the ways they've changed me, because two years have gone by.