This evening, I did something that most of my friends and family wouldn't have wanted me to do, especially a few months ago.
With my boys Snowy and Dexter in tow, I decided to give them a rather long walk, by going to my old stomping ground in Overstrand. I hadn't been there since a couple of weeks after I resigned from the garden centre, when I had to take Dexter to the vet.
So what was my intention? A small part of me hoped to bump into a certain ex-boss of mine, so I could confront him, face to face, and get a few things off my chest.
But my main intention was to go to the garden centre, to take one last look at it, and to see if I felt anything - pain, sorrow, anguish, whatever.
So as I stood at the exit gates and peered in, I was surprised that I felt nothing when I saw the place that until a few months ago meant a great deal to me.
As I looked at the building I had worked in for over seven years, I began to realize that this was no longer the place that so many good things happened to me at, because, in actual fact, with all that has happened to me in the past few months, that place no longer existed. It is gone, forever.
Guess it's time to move on now guys.