Life is for learning, Jimmy sighs on his way through the ornate lobby. I should have seen it coming. Reminding himself that hindsight is always twenty-twenty, he pushes the front door open with his hip. The hefty carton containing the pictures, the stuff that distinguished his cubicle from all others, snags the metal knob of the front door spilling the contents inside the carton across the bluestone the front of the building. Employees, venders, cut him a wide birth as he picks up: the framed picture of his three kids, none of whom were born at the beginning of his tenure, the poster of a panicked kitten hanging by his claws from a spool of wool meant to put his subordinates at ease. He kicks the broken pieces of his trusty coffee mug to the curb where with any luck one of the shards will puncture the tires of his now ex-boss. No use crying over milk he thinks as he heads towards the parking lot one last time.