Well, I had my first day at work, and as I have learned from the painful experience of Dooce, I will relay very little of my experience.
What I can tell you: I had to be there no later than 7:45 in the morning, and to do that, I had to leave my home by 6:45 a.m., just in case.
That meant I had to be up before 5:00 and I had to walk the dogs in the dark. THE DARK.
The dogs were not amused. They dragged behind me for most of the walk, and if they could have said, "Are we there yet?" they would have.
Tomorrow, I get to leave at a much more civil hour, and for that, I am grateful. At this stage of the game, I am most worried about (1) finding parking that is not three miles from the building and (2) finding my cubicle once I get in the building.
Yes, these are the sorts of things I worry about.
As for the job, who knows?
This address in a small Midwestern factory town was the launching pad for a life that has been messy, painful, Catholic, overseas, underpaid, in denial, in recovery, coming out, standing up, increasing glorious (if flawed), and under construction for over 50 years.
No comments:
Post a Comment