I'm a sentimental fool at times. I read this piece in the Washington Post, struck by how closely I identified with it. I reminisced with real life colleagues about our memories of the show and our attempts at pranking one another. As we watched the retrospective, Mr. P and I recalled the cities and companies in which we worked during various seasons.
Then I cried. I cried for what the show meant to me when I started my first job. For the many farewells I've said to colleagues who have become friends. For the difficult career decisions. For the unrequited, then requited love. For the decade of my 20s that is ceremoniously ending in step with TV friends' farewells.
It became more than a show because it was the vessel for sorting out all the complications of office politics and romance in the tumult of early adulthood. It was served with hilarity, making it that much easier to swallow. For that, I owe this art a debt of gratitude.
Now off to start at the beginning - Season 1: The Pilot. TGIF!
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