‘I know HR is an actual thing now, but to me it’s like homeopathy or dinosaurs'

I walk into the office to discover that all of my most treasured possessions have been stuffed into a cordboard box, which is sitting on my desk. We’re talking my ‘That’s Leinstertainment’ travel mug. We’re talking my 13 letters of censure from the Property Services Regulatory Authority. We’re talking my signed photograph of Richie McCaw (“To Ross,” it says. “You could have been one of the all-time greats,” words which still bring a tear to my eye, even though I told him specifically what to write).

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