Dealer's Choice

On Tuesday I was raised by my alarm from a dream in which I was going to lose my job, or might have been going to lose my job, or was going to get reshuffled, or whatever, and the key point, other than man, what is it about getting woken up from a dream? I was groggy the whole darn day - was: I wasn't too upset. Yes, it was a dream, and also my eraser turned into a miniature kit fox and ran into the corner, but the prospect of losing my job, even on waking, was not terribly distressing. I had a momentary flash of panic about the mortgage and other expenses (as well I should), but my main reaction was, "Hmmm. I could do a lot with all that extra time."

Which is perhaps why two days later, after a work day that made me wonder to which cost code I should charge 30 minutes of seething and 45 minutes of wasting my damn time, I thought, hmmm. I could just not have to deal with any of this.

I could just be at home, and do home stuff, and be homey and homely and home. And then I had a little frisson of delight and relief - all of the irritating insoluble problems of the workplace could just vanish, just like that, and I would be free.

It sounded wonderful. For about five minutes. Then I remembered that:

a. I really do like my paycheck very much, and

b. I also am kind of involved in things at work right now, and walking out would leave me with an eternal sense of having left something unfinished, plus

c. Irritation is good for me.

It took me a while to realize this. Irritation - not crushing stress or daily misery, but the kind of condition where you have to sigh sharply and bustle in and do things right - is good for people. So is training yourself to suck it up and just deal with the fact that the air conditioning comes on when it's 46 degrees outside (WTH, Building People?), that the computer upgrades you need to do your job aren't likely to come before October even though other people in the office just got brand new iPads, and that meetings will always be dominated by the ones who do nothing but complain. It's like exercise: it's uncomfortable during the practice of it, but afterward you feel great, plus your muscles are better toned.

So: instead of getting all bent out of shape when I get yet another incomprehensible request to deal with something that I'm pretty sure we solved three months ago, I just breathe, smile, and think feel the burn. And also: nope. Not leaving. Not today.

Joining the Family

Had my first day of work yesterday and it went well. I didn't get fired on my first day, for example, even though I had this sort of irrational fear that I would (not while there, of course. I wasn't getting "we're going to fire you as soon as we can" vibes or anything). I was pretty tired by the end of the day, and by tired I mean tired of sitting in a chair: one thing about those eight hour days is that it takes some serious sitting muscles. There was also the whole getting-up-at-five-am-and-meeting-thirty-people-before-lunch tired. But that's to be expected, and it's even kind of pleasant, or will be when I get along a little further and it is accompanied with a sense of having accomplished something.

The part about starting a new job that I'd forgotten, or that I have gotten more sensitive to, is the absorbing of a whole new body of information. This is something that gets harder as I get older, or is harder because I already have a lot of things I want to be doing with my day. At the start of a new job I always feel a little like I've stumbled into someone else's family reunion and suddenly I'm expected to become a permanent member of that family and also the family archivist. All while I'm still kind of scanning the horizon for my own family reunion. (The workforce: a vast park full of picnics, apparently.)

Well, I'm off to roast some hot dogs. For someone's else's family. Cheerio.

Back from the Bloggy Break

Breaking news: I texted yesterday for the first time. Whoa boy, I'm speeding into the twenty-first century. Here's the sum total: "Sweet stop no idea how to punctuate this thing stop"

Yeah, so. Still some work to do to get me into the twenty-first century.

In other news, we just got back from a week in Ohio with my parents, where among other activities Hubs and I attended my high school reunion (20th). Well. I have to say I enjoyed Hubs' high school reunion better, and I may have known more people at his (note: I did not move to his town until ten years after he graduated from high school). Okay, I kid. I knew plenty of people. However, considering that my graduating class was only 300 or so, and I attended the public schools in my town from kindergarten through 12th grade (more or less), there were surprising swaths of unknown faces. Also, I disappointed myself by thinking EXACTLY THE SAME about my classmates. In other words, usually I'm excited to meet people and basically interested in everyone I have a conversation with. One of my big regrets about high school was that I too often dismissed people I barely knew as uninteresting; I was hoping, I think, that the reunion would be different. Nope. Five minutes into talking to someone whom I hadn't seen for twenty years I would be mentally checking my watch, already as tired of him or her as I had been on the last day of high school.

To be fair, people seemed to sort of feel the same way about me. It might just be a reunion thing.

More news: despite my lackluster interview skills, I have apparently been offered a job. I am totally aware of how great this is and how lucky I am to be offered ANYTHING. Also, I am ninety-nine percent sure I will take it. However, I am allowing myself to freak out. It's full-time, and I haven't worked full-time since I've had kids. (cue panic). I will have to COMMUTE. By CAR. (I have NEVER had to do this). (Yes, I am spoiled.) It's a regular corporate-type job, meaning that there are only two weeks of vacation, plus assorted Major Holidays. (cue MASSIVE panic). It seems pretty straight-laced, so if Si has a day off and I want to take him to the museum, I will have to use vacation time (meaning there will less for when I actually want to do an awaycation). If it's a spectacularly beautiful day and I want to take off and go hiking, I will have to use vacation time. I know that this is the situation of the vast majority of people who work, and the fact that I am even complaining about this shows how good I've had it/ ungrateful I am. [and I will spare everyone and not launch into a tirade about how 50 40-hour weeks are bad for us, how EVERYONE should get more time off, because work, as valuable as it may be, is only part of our lives and we are all starving our souls by working so much]

Anyway. Mostly I need to process the Change involved in going from being underemployed to fully employed. Apparently complaint is essential to that process. Apologies all round.

Next time: pictures!