The weekend is over. It is now time to say something. Something about this last week of work. Something about J. Something about the moments in between and the ideas of food and body and pop culture and bullet journaling?
I have been so glad and giddy just to limit the daily remarks to Kilroy was here and to saunter away delighted in myself for having clicked into WordPress, opened a new post and written just that much. But now that I feel obliged to write more fully about how I am feeling and the newest of new developments, I am overwhelmed by the task. A week ago feels like an absolute lifetime ago.
The new job, which I shall be very careful not to go into specifics with, is in the sort of building that people fictionalize for fancy corporate anonymous offices. Everything is cleaned and taken care of the moment you set a coffee cup down on a counter top. Someone, a host of someones I am hoping I will get a chance to know, is constantly at the end of the line awaiting the requests of all of the high-powered executives and the hard-working cubicle rats and leaps to their aid as soon as anyone in my role as go-between so much as blinks. It’s quite overwhelming, to be wandering amongst such studious and engaged people who are pressed for time and struggling to make the projects they are overloaded with happen and feeling as though you have no idea how you got here.
I know, of course, but you know…?
I’ve been lost in one of the multiple buildings. I’ve been treated kindly and joked with and looked after just enough that I have a sense of the scope of the thing and just enough that I am petrified as to what will happen when my boss goes upstairs and I am left with the very kind, very pleasant, very tough, very demanding executive we both serve on the other side of the glass not three feet away. I am quite concerned about how to deal with a universe in which I screw something big up. And the great probability that we are now in this world.
And of course, as much as I am bewildered by the job, I am appreciative that in a few days, a fair sum of recompense will arrive in my mailbox. I keep reminding myself, wait, the stress you’re experiencing…it’s stress from learning and it’s not just raw, boundless stress. It is a work-week and it’s balanced by the fact that you will get to stop eating ramen multiple meals a day. And in another few weeks after that, another one, and then another…and so on. This is not a short assignment, this is the shape of my life. This glossy, inorganic, fancy-ass version of the old song and dance: keep the boss happy and don’t let anyone else get too unhappy. I just need to find how I can slot myself into everything without feeling…too much like a cog. I wanted that once. Now we see if I meant it.
The job is demanding, I think, quite a bit from me with regard to driving. That’s just going to be a process of self-reconciliation to the length of time it takes to get from here to there and if I end up taking the bus…I’m alright with that.
There’s more to say, definitely more, I’m just glad I got the five hundred in before midnight. It makes me feel like a 1% success.