ONeill

Sarah ONeill
Professor Jackie
English 101
October 9, 2015
Smudges on the Wall
I took a look around the office and thought to myself, This was it. It was finally
my last day of working in Property Management. The office still had the same strange
smell that it had the day I interviewed, 10 years ago. A rich musky smell of old carpet
and stale air. It was like not one single janitorial staff member ever used more than a
damp cloth to clean the furniture in the companys more than 50 years of business. The
walls radiated with multiple layers of white, chalky, low quality paint, and the faint
fingerprints of every person that stopped in to throw more work on my desk or
participate in mindless chit chat to avoid the work on their own desk. If I would let my
mind wander and stare at it too long (which happened often in my last days) I could
actually hypothesize who left the majority of the prints near the door. I immediately got
a mental visual of Doug and his glossy skin that sheened with a perpetual oil slick
making him always appear more stressed than he really was. I knew I was going to miss
those fingerprints. I would guess 80% of the smudges were his middle and index fingers
as he grabbed on to the ledge of the door yelling Clark, which later became ONeill.
The smudges concentrated around the door jam and light switch in an array of gray and
brown tones. I began to imagine my walls held the criminal records of every employee in
that place.
It was 4:50pm and I started to realize they were really going to make me stay the
whole day. I could have been fired at 8:02am and they still would have paid me for the

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entire 8 hours and sent me home, as though committing a fire-able offense provided
some sort of special consolation prize. However, give them 10 years and a 4-week notice
and they were going to get every minute out of you. I was salary. I could have gotten up
and left, without a care. But lets be honest, I could never step out of line. I still held
tight to a deep fear of authority. Besides, I liked my virtually flawless record and worked
hard to be one of the few employees to leave with their good reputation still intact, or so
I hoped. Maybe it was best that I waited out the herd of people that left at 5:01pm to
avoid more awkward goodbyes. I really should have prepared reports and training
guidelines to ensure a flawless takeover for the next department director. I just couldnt
seem to take my eyes off the walls.
I was not proud that I succumbed to the short-timers mentality. I partially
blamed the fluorescent bulbs above my head that created a constant visual buzz, making
people look as though they were moving in slow motion. I had typically given 150% of
my life to my job. My God, how the final days dragged. I had a strange unconditional
love for that place. I grew up there and went through many of lifes hard times and joys,
from heartbreaks to marriage. I even found my husband at a company event he and I
coincidentally worked together, at one of their apartment communities. The owner of
the company loved to ask my husband, in front of investors and city officials, to tell
them how he met his wife while working for his company. I snickered every time it
happened, knowing how embarrassing it was for James to tell that story in a
professional work setting. I couldnt help but wonder if I would ever work for another
owner that made me feel so appreciated and would take so much pride in my personal
happiness. My mind travelled further into the walls and reminded me of all the
successes and failures I had over the years. I really couldnt believe I actually gave

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notice. I continued to push down any second thoughts and impending regrets deep into
my stomach. I knew I must commit to my new life.
At 5:05pm, I made my way to the reception area and said my last goodbyes to the
remaining employees who didnt sneak out before 5:00pm on a Friday. As I walked
down the long hall that led to the reception area, I surveyed the walls one last time. It
was January and there were still Christmas decorations hung carelessly with scotch tape
on more chalky white walls. I was pretty sure those were the same paper decorations
they used my first December in 2004. You could actually see where the tape had been
repeatedly peeled off to prepare generic Rudolph for his 10-month hibernation in a local
storage facility and new tape added for his tenth debut in our musky halls. When I really
looked at him, I dont think he had all of his left antler, another casualty of reusing
disposable decorations over and over. I knew I would miss those goofy little
idiosyncrasies.
I arrived to the reception area and Jessica, the Vice Presidents Administrative
Assistant, was stacking up papers into neat geometric piles and collecting her belongings
for the weekend. She saw me and smiled a large wispy smile that stretched clear across
the lower portion of her face. She practically yelled, Its your last day! Are you so
excited? I replied with my standard safe answer, I am so sad to leave but I am really
excited to pursue school. She was the 6th or 7th VP Administrative Assistant I had seen
in my tenure. They always seemed like they were one complaining employee away from
going postal. I assumed it took a special person to work under the VP and deal with
countless managers making your life more difficult. However, this particular assistant
had a very dominant personality with sharp edges. She seemed to take pleasure in
people screwing up so she had the honor of ratting them out to the great and powerful

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Vice President. We had all been a victim of her power plays. Lucky for me, I didnt have
to care anymore. Jessica forced a sympathetic look as we danced around an awkward
unemotional goodbye. I let her know I would be coming back to consult until they filled
the position, so I would see her around. That statement was a life saver for me on so
many levels. Not only could I make a little extra money as needed, I could avoid the
emotional goodbyes that were far too difficult for me to bare. I took one last look around
the office, feeling thankful that the office building had become a deserted prison faster
than I expected, and headed towards the door as an unemployed student for the first
time. As I walked out the door, I grabbed the chalky white wall one last time, to leave
one final fingerprint smudge of my own.