June 7, 1990
I moved out of the attic at 47 Paul. There was a full moon in a bright blue sky with clouds drifting past it. I felt like I was saying goodbye to Broderbund.
It was melancholy, being there at night with an empty desk and all those ghosts. Tomi was there too, sifting through the wreckage of Sensei. I called Robert in L.A. to ask him what I should do with his stuff, and we fell to reminiscing. It wasn’t such a bad year-and-a-half. Actually, I remember it quite warmly. But thank God it’s over.
Driving away, I felt strangely light, as if throwing away all those papers had set me free. I felt ready for the next thing, and oddly happy. I told Tomi this and she said: “I guess you’re more optimistic because you’re younger. Or, I don’t know, maybe it’s your basic personality.”
I’m never going to have an office at Broderbund again. It was fun but now it’s done.
