Well, last week was it — my final week as a barista. After 9 years, I thought I’d feel more sentimental. I figured I’d cry. As I blended frappuccinos on my last day, I reminded myself that I would never do that again. You know what? That made me happy. I guess I’m sad I’m not sad. Does that make sense? How can I turn away from something that’s been a part of my life for so long and not shed a tear?