I'm Back in the Honeymoon Stage

But not in regard to any of the following things: moving, my roommates (Are you kidding?  We've never fought.  So I think that means it's possible we've never left the honeymoon stage.  Or else we just disregarded it completely.  Also possible.), dating, any type of romance.

 

No, I'm back in the honeymoon stage again when it comes to work.  And this is why: I'm busy!

 

I started last Wednesday, and last Wednesday flew by.  After talking about all of the many facets of my job with all of the many people who correlate with those facets, it was all of a sudden time to go home.  But due to extenuating circumstances, I found myself thrown into my job--solo--for half of Thursday and all of Friday.

 

Though I had a list of things to do, some of them were menial.  And the fun ones?  Well, I wasn't able to do them yet.  Especially since all of my permissions had not yet been set up.  I heckled a little bit, and saw a few results.  But by the end of Friday, I feared that I had lost all interest in this job within a three-day time span.

 

That thought, friends, was incredibly depressing.

 

Imagine my delight this morning when I found out there is much to do!  Trainings to go through!  Things to fax!  I'm totally de-valuing the exclamation point here, aren't I?!

 

I am enjoying my tasks.  I am enjoying talking to people as I complete my tasks.  And I'm seriously enjoying the casual dress code.  Denim capris and a t-shirt, baby.  (Also, this nicely makes packing a heckuva lot easier.)

 

There is enough to do.  More than enough to do.  Which means this is excellent.  Even when I return home and there's more than enough to do there, as well.

 

When we were younger, whenever my siblings and I would engage in laziness, my mom loved to quote: "Idle hands are the devil's workshop." 

 

If the converse of that statement is true, I'm in heaven!

 

(I told you I was in the honeymoon stage . . .)

Worker Incognita

Ha! That's what I'm not. Here is a list of the various perceptions people I've worked with in the past have had of yours truly:

1. The very old, very cool, very silly babysitter who could cook a killer hot dog. When you're three, that's about all you think of the girl who is watching you. If you're the parents of that little boy, you're thankful any time your kid messes up and says "oh my heavens" instead of more colorful alternatives.
2. The very cranky college freshman. When you wake up at quarter to five to go into work and you were never a morning person to begin with, your co-workers think it's impossible there is a less than surly bone in your body. It probably didn't help that I (I'm incidentally quite gregarious and articulate at decent hours of the day . . . and unholy hours of the night, but never in the morning) communicated mostly in grunts.
3. The tremendously efficient girl who could type 100 wpm, carry on a conversation in which she dissected Harry Potter with co-workers, and instant message someone else--simultaneously. True talent, I tell you.
4. The girl who was never content with a simple lead for a newspaper article. Instead, I had to compare the destruction of trees on campus to Dr. Seuss and "The Lorax," insisted on an elaborate cooking conceit when covering foreign language classes offered in restaurants, and compared George W. Bush's answer to the question of the war on terrorism to Michelangelo's answer to the Pope in The Agony and the Ecstasy. ("When will it be done?" "When I am finished.")
4. The girl who read a book a day for two semesters, except during finals week when she was actually required to proctor the computer testing center.
5. The resident Writing Center femi-Nazi. All right, femi-Nazi might be a little harsh, but I gained quite the rep as an advocate of the intelligence of women, the capability of women in the business workforce, and the voice of the persistent opinion that women can learn anything men can. (These ideas didn't seem that extreme to me, but my boss labeled me as quite the feminist and the label stuck. Possibly because I'm quite ready to offer my opinions about pretty much anything at any given time, invited or not.) The WC folks also noted my bluntness (I believe my fellow tutor's exact words were: "Wow. You just say it like it is." Thus my evolution into the self-proclaimed Tactless Tutor . . . although the fellow recanted backward a little to say blunt and honest might fit better than tactless)
6. And now, the resident (office) politician. After working for the State, I've got a pretty good idea of how bureaucracy works and how to play the system to my advantage . . . this might be my best work role yet. As HR, I am part of the system I'm manipulating . . . and oh, but the manipulation is fun! Someday, I think I will write a whole novel about office politics.

An Eventful First Day of Work

And no, my first day of work was not today. It was Monday. What kind of strange job would an employee start on a Wednesday? Anyway, Monday proved to be an eventful day. I did many things: filled out forms, learn some of the protocols for doing a variety of activities (from writing letters to updating address books in Excel), filled out more forms, did some filing, learned how to use the copy machine that should officially be considered an antique, filled out some more forms . . .

Anyway, my retention as an employee was (and is) dependent on two things: a good evaluation after the 90-day "probation period" and successfully passing a drug screen. I made a face at the drug screening paperwork for a variety of reasons: a) the methodology is gross, b) the address for the drug screening place was in Salt Lake, c) I don't have a car or a license, and d) actually, I think I used up all my reasoning.

My boss knew that I would be taking the bus to and from work, so she decided they would pay me to go to the drug screening place on Monday. She okayed my co-worked to drive me out there. And then I spent exactly one-fourth of my eight-hour day trying to pee into a cup. Two hours! Humiliating! And by the time I finally succeeded, the nurse was actually laughing at me. I guess I made his day somehow . . .

That was the most memorable first day of work I think I might ever have. Of course, I'll never say never. But how good natured I was about the ordeal should be grounds for getting a glowing report on my evaluation.