Sept. 24-Back in the office in Washington DC

Craig dropped me off the next morning at the nearby Metro stop and I rode into Roslyn to return to my old offices at the Consumer Bankers Association. I had an unusual queasy feeling, knowing that this week would mark the end of a job that began 22 years earlier. I was certainly glad to be closing out this phase of my life, but it was not any sort of happiness that I felt inside, although there was certainly an element of relief. It truly did not seem like a very auspicious end for such a large period of my life, for a few reasons. Constant problems with my internet connection beginning in July had made my contact with CBA and the outside world in general seem rather tenuous, and it had been necessary to make trips to an internet café in Nosara at times to publish the August and September issues of the newsletter. My successor was finally hired and in place, and her efforts to assert control, as well as some minor mishaps on my end, had created some stress that pierced my Pura Vida. I really just wanted to get the last issue done and over with, and while I had a few friends in the office who would surely be glad to see me, there were others I was not so sure about.

These mixed feelings were further compounded by an ongoing slow-motion crash of the financial system that had provided my employment since 1980. I reflected on how fortunate I was that we sold our house in the Spring of 2007, and closed on the sale just as the poison of bad mortgages began its paralyzing effect in August. Had it not been for the one buyer, God bless him, it is highly likely that we would still own our house and that I would still be working at CBA, desperately trying to stay current on a combined $750,000 in mortgage and home equity debt provided by Wachovia, now the subject of speculation about its own future.

It was with this surreal background that I entered the CBA offices with my shaggy locks, greeted the few people necessary and slid into my temporary office safely tucked away from others in back. I hardly felt the conquering hero, and preferred to keep a low profile. I suspected there would be low morale, as the crisis in banking threatened the very existence of CBA, premised as it is on the type of lending that was now at the heart of the meltdown. I would have three days to do my business and see who I wanted to see, and then there would be a staff reception to bid me farewell.

Wednesday night I picked Jane up at the airport and we spent the night at her new set-up at her friend Andrea’s house. Jane had done a good job of settling in with her extensive collection of clothing and related paraphernalia into a large room that is the third floor of Andrea’s house. She said she is comfortable there and it should work out for the foreseeable future.