Dear Learning Center,

After two years of sitting in you, and getting paid to do so, our time has come to an end.

There are many things about you I won't miss. I won't miss your horrible florescent lighting that by day's end would give me glazed eyes and a headache. I won't miss your environmentally friendly heating system that works off motion, which often left me freezing in the winter months, jumping up and down hoping it would turn on again. I won't miss the fact that it requires 90 minutes of Starbucks cup-grasping early morning transit to get to you, or that the only place to eat near you is Subway. I won't miss your iMac circa 2002 that always froze, often requiring me to rewrite pages of my thesis. I won't miss your printer that always broke down, leading an endless line of undergrads to repeatedly ask me if the printer was working, despite the 5 handmade signs I placed around you informing them that it wasn't. I won't miss some of the people that visited you, especially the girl that always farted at the computer near my desk and never apologized, and the guy that told me I had "flock of seagulls" hair, and more seriously, the 50 year old non-student who used you to download child pornography.

But Learning Centre, despite all that, I will miss YOU. You paid me very well for doing little-to-no work. I wrote most of my thesis in you, did many an indieWIRE buzz in you (giving me the pleasure of getting paid for two jobs simultaneously), and watched endless hours of YouTube clips in the mildly comfy chair you provided me with. You never got mad at me for being an hour, or even two hours late (but the man who runs you did). You are the second-longest job I've ever held, and though I'll never put you on my resume, or perhaps even tell people I knew you, you'll always have a place in my heart.

I write this letter to you from within you, and will savour my last few hours with you, before lying to students about what you time you close and leaving early for the ever-important activity of watching television in bed.

Be well.

Sincerely,
Peter