Years of work. Multiple titles. A wall full of awards. A team that believed in you. Revenue that kept the lights on.
It all fits in one box. The security guy hands it to you in the lobby. Your personal items. Photos. A coffee mug. The plant someone gave you years ago that somehow survived.
All that time. One box. The lobby you walked through every morning is now the place where someone hands you your things and waits for your badge.
The box is never big enough and always too big. Not enough to hold what you built. Too much to carry while people watch.