Saying Goodbye to October

It’s 11:58 p.m. on Halloween, and I’ve been saying goodbye to October. I don’t want to let it go.

There’s something sad about watching the season end, especially when you’ve enjoyed it so much. This has probably been my favorite Halloween season. I loved the decorations, the marketing, the way stores transformed themselves, and the whole atmosphere surrounding October. And now November is here.

Part of what makes this October different is that it’s my last October as a student at Cal State LA, and my last October working in Special Collections and Archives.

I’ll be finishing school in December. I might continue working at the archives for another semester, but nothing is guaranteed. I’m already looking for other opportunities, and I have a job interview coming up on Monday. So there’s a lot of uncertainty about what comes next.

But when I first started thinking about October ending, I wasn’t thinking about any of that. I was just sad that Halloween was over. Only after a long conversation about it did I begin to understand why this particular October meant so much to me. What I’ll miss most are the ordinary days.

The Ordinary Days

My mornings usually begin with picking up Jocelyne, my girlfriend, and driving to Cal State LA.

I’ll admit, sometimes I dread the drive. Traffic can be horrible. I often imagine a future where people look back at us and think, “Wow, people used to sit in traffic every morning? That’s crazy!” Kind of how we might look back at people who had to travel everywhere by donkey.

Eventually, we arrive at campus. I park in the staff parking lot, which I think is pretty cool. We walk up the stairs, head toward the library, and put our lunches away in the staff break room. Then we go our separate ways. She goes to work or class, and I head to the archives.

Sometimes we see each other at lunch, sometimes between work and class, and eventually we meet again before heading home. I enjoy that routine. We don’t have to be doing the same thing all day to share the experience of being there.

The People Around Me

There’s Azalea, the head of Special Collections and Archives.

She’s the big boss, you know. She’s always busy with meetings and a seemingly endless list of responsibilities.

On Mondays, I work from 9 a.m. to noon, and sometimes it’s just the two of us in the archives. We’re both occupied with our work, but there’s occasional chatter about what needs to get done or whatever comes up.

I look up to her. I’ve visited other archives where people recognize her name. It’s interesting to realize that someone I work alongside regularly is so well known in the profession, and I’m glad I’ve had the chance to work with her.

Then there’s Isa, our project digital archivist.

She’s a powerhouse. That’s the word I was looking for.

She’s always educating herself and putting what she learns into practice, on top of volunteering and managing her own organization.

Fridays are my longest days at the archives, and they’re usually when I get the most work done. Sometimes it’s just Isa and me working on our own projects.

By 5:30 p.m., we’re ready to go home. We close up the archives, take out the trash, and wind down the week. Jocelyne is often there with us, and we head downstairs together.

By then, the library is closed and the campus is usually deserted. Every once in a while there’s something unexpected, like a movie set, music, or an event. But most Fridays, it’s quiet.

One of my favorite things about Fridays is walking out together. We’re done with work, we’re outside, and we get to talk a little more before going our separate ways. I don’t know. I just really like those moments.

There’s also George, one of our volunteers who comes in on Thursdays.

George is great. He always wears these cool shirts, often with interesting artistic designs. He talks about art, recommends movies, and likes to remind me to do something fun over the weekend.

Sometimes he brings cookies or bread, and the bread is so good. I occasionally sneak a piece out to Jocelyne, who’s usually doing her work in the quiet space next to the archives.

Most Thursdays, George and I say hello and catch up. Once, my research led me to ask him about objects from a Mesoamerican collection. We talked about the carvings and shapes, and how an object could suggest different interpretations depending on how you looked at it. I enjoyed that conversation, but mostly I just like having him around.

And then there are Wednesdays.

I don’t usually work at the archives on Wednesdays, but Jocelyne and I still bring our lunches because it’s a long day on campus. We often eat in the library staff break room, where we sometimes run into Mr. Kent.

I met Mr. Kent after seeking him out on LinkedIn. I was interested in his position and wanted to learn more about his work, so I interviewed him. Since then, we’ve talked about digital objects, artificial intelligence, the philosophical questions around immutability, and how libraries might establish trust and legitimacy as the ways we search for information change. I always leave those conversations with something to think about.

Of course, not everything in the break room is philosophical. Sometimes there’s a horrible smell coming from the refrigerator. Recently, Mr. Kent and I went through some of the food, threw away some things, wrapped the trash in a bag, and took it out.

Other library staff also pass through the break room sometimes. They smile, say hello, and go about their day.

There are other coworkers, too. I don’t work with all of them regularly, but I enjoy seeing them. Ricardo knows a great deal about the archives and reading room operations, and I enjoy our conversations whenever we work together.

None of this might sound extraordinary. But I like it.

The Kind of People I Want to Be Around

As I thought about all these people, I realized they inspire me. Azalea leads with authority. Isa keeps learning and pays close attention to everything she does. Mr. Kent thinks about technology and information like a philosopher. They all care about their work, and being around that makes me feel like I’m moving in the right direction.

I can see that direction in my own work. I’ve been developing digital preservation workflows involving filesystems, checksums, and AI-assisted processes, and working on ways to make oral history workflows more digital and reproducible. I’ve also been working on a community archive project. These projects have pushed me beyond just using technology. I’m starting to develop my own ideas about how archival tools should work and how AI might support preservation, and I enjoy thinking about it.

Mr. Kent once told me that he had always been an IT person, much like I am now as an information systems student. But as he’s gotten older, writing has become an important part of what he does.

And here I am, trying to write this essay. Maybe writing is another way to explore these ideas and to preserve something that would otherwise disappear into memory.

I don’t know exactly where my career will take me. But when I look at the work I’m doing and the people around me, I like the direction I’m heading.

Jocelyne has been with me through so much of this. She’s supportive, and I love her. Having someone I love to share these ordinary days with is a big part of what makes them so good.

Why October?

I think I understand a little more now why I didn’t want October to end.

It was a busy month at the archives, with Archives Bazaar, preparations for Sounds of the Underground, and everything else happening around campus. And of course, there was Halloween: the decorations, the seasonal displays, the changing weather, the feeling that the year was winding down. I’ve always enjoyed these things, but this year I appreciated them more, maybe because I’m paying closer attention to the ordinary days that make up this chapter of my life.

I remember leaving my internship at LACCD in May 2025. I was sad on my last day, maybe even teared up a bit. But the sadness didn’t arrive months in advance, as it has this time around.

Maybe autumn has something to do with it. The season is ending, the year is ending, and my time as a student is almost over. I still have more days ahead of me at Cal State LA, but I know things won’t stay exactly as they are. I’m being paid to do something I love, surrounded by people I enjoy and admire, and I don’t want that to end.

To My Future Self

If you’re reading this on October 31, 2027, I hope you can trace your way back to tonight.

I hope you remember the morning drives with Jocelyne, even the dreadful traffic. Walking up to the library, putting our lunches away, and heading off to work.

The conversations with Azalea. Working alongside Isa. George and his cool shirts, his movie recommendations, and the bread he’d bring on Thursdays.

The philosophical conversations with Mr. Kent, and even that horrible refrigerator smell.

And those quiet Friday evenings when we’d close the archives and walk downstairs together.

Not every moment was wonderful. Sometimes you were tired. Sometimes you dreaded the drive. Sometimes you wished you’d accomplished more. But you enjoyed this life.

I don’t know where you’ll be next October. Maybe you’ll be working in another archive. Maybe you’ll be doing something entirely different. I hope you’re still doing meaningful work around people who make you think, and that you’ve learned how to build that kind of place for others, wherever you go.

And I hope you’re still preserving stories, including your own.

Tonight I started out sad that Halloween was ending. I was really saying goodbye to the ordinary days that made this October mine.

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AI-assistance disclosure: This essay was edited with help from Claude (Anthropic), an AI assistant, which trimmed repetition and adjusted phrasing. The experiences, people, and most of the wording are the author’s own.