On September 18, 2008 I woke up early, much earlier than I was used to, I got in my car and drove for a good one hour and something to my new job.
Right before that September, I had found out about Alex Moulton's Exodus, and needless to say, I was heavily addicted to it, so you can imagine what was the soundtrack to that very first drive to my new work.
For two years and almost three months I was immersed in publicationland so deeply I often had nightmares that I couldn't fit all the text on the given number of pages and woke up stressed under the impression that I hadn't completed all pre-press procedures.
My course there was a bumpy one; a truly awesome, yet turbulent, studded with wonderfully pleasant moments but also with enough stress to last me for a lifetime. Many, if not most of, times the two facets of this job were firmly entwined and I guess that's why these two-something years are, now, rendered in such a pleasantly nostalgic light in my mind.
Over this time I met amazing people, learned a great deal of new stuff, came across huge amounts of lifesaving information, experienced excruciating, lifechanging stress but above all, I left that place knowing that I now have an extra handful of real friends.
On a different note: I hope Mr Moulton doesn't mind I borrowed his album title for this post, but there's a reason for this. Just like my time at IMH, and IN Business, Exodus means a lot too me. It sort of vaguely describes my experience working in the stressful field of the media, the turbulence that goes on in the album could stand as the most appropriate audio backdrop during the turmoil I was experiencing from time to time.
When the time to leave had come, two days ago, Exodus, once again, seemed as an apt choice for a soundtrack to that last ride home. I know, it may sound way too poetic, melodramatic or even cheesy, but it really made absolute sense to me.
So once again, thank you Mr. Moulton for being a part of my very own Exodus.