I want you to rub butter on my foot

Rhian Davie

The Office is over.

That show carried me through a lot of life.  Not in a "getting me through" way, just in a "it was always...there" sort of way.  Even our honeymoon was spent listening to hours of the That's What She Said podcast as Patrick and I drove from Richmond to Montreal and back.  "Bears, Beets, Battlestar Galactica" is a phrase routinely uttered in our house.  Ditto for "Look at what I am doing and go tell somebody it!"  

In my mind, the show always ended with Michael going off to marry Holly.  I pretty much stopped watching after that, sort of like quietly leaving a place when it's just right, to remember it perfectly the way you left it in that wonderful moment.  But even so, it was still nebulously there, and now...it's over.

Welp.  I could get all teary like I did watching the last episode.  Or I could just send it off in my mind the Michael Scott way.



In the end, Michael is happy and has the family he always wanted, and that is all I ever wanted from this show.  So goodbye Toby.  Goodbye Office.