Being Replaced

On my birthday last week, my replacement arrived. She shall now be known as R.

If you’re confused, I meant my replacement at work. R joined the department initially to join the team of another. I was undecided on my boss’ response every time I went to her. She told me there isn’t a replacement for me yet. I was frustrated but somehow assured.

And then, swiftly and subtly, there she was. I had to teach R my roles and responsibilities, introduce her to my project, and then I learnt that she would be taking over my desk.

I’m not bitter, because I haven’t been fired. I’m leaving for a greater good. I’m excited for my greater good. I’m dying to go for my greater good.

But have you ever been replaced? It’s a strange feeling. It’s not just my projects but my place in this department as the youngest chick that the old folks find adoring. The chick in the band of brothers who sticks it to them during lunch. I think I’m being replaced everywhere.

It’s a different feeling having an addition and having a replacement. I’m a girl, of course I think this way. I wonder if I’ve left any form of legacy. The band of brothers are happy to have a girl, any girl, to join the lunch crew. Boys.

But they call me ‘bro’. So maybe there’s a slight difference.

I have nothing against R. She does seem nice. I was introduced into this department as a new addition to a team that was expanding. I took over the cubicle that was empty. It was abandoned, and people used to go to it when their computer wasn’t working.

To know that R will take over my cubicle in 2 weeks’ time, and that my cubicle will be scrubbed down till there was no evidence of my working there these past 22 months – it’s surreal.

I look forward to that day. But it sure as well will be bittersweet.

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