So. Pretend you’re me. Thank God you’re not but just pretend for a minute. It won’t hurt, I promise.
So pretend that it’s your first day at your dream job. Okay, not your dream job exactly (Because that job involves minions. And donuts.) but the job that you prayed for and studied for and bothered anyone with any kind of connection to it for months on end. (Sorry about that, by the way) It’s your first day and you hope the other kids will like you and that somebody will sit by you at lunch.
You choose your first day outfit carefully. But not too carefully. Don’t want to look like you tried too hard. You commute through stupid and completely ridiculous traffic and still get there 25 minutes early and have no idea where to park or where to report.
You tour the office of 15 other staff members in a labyrinth of doors and cubicles and tight hallways in a National Historic Register building. You remember all of four names. And not a single job title. You get the big office with the big desk and the computer with the big screen, all set up and ready to go. You meet with your team who has been doing your job since April and who doesn’t want to do it for one minute longer.
It is 9:30am and all you want is a cup of coffee and the Today Show and fat pants.
And by “you”, of course, I mean “me”.
I think it will all be fine. I know it will be fine. Once I get past the new names and new location and the crazy busy schedule…it will be fine. I got this.
I heard that repeated for the last two weeks…”you got this.” And I do. I will.
And I understand that the job has been empty for far too long and the people who divided that job and have been doing it are D-O-N-E…done. Production isn’t for everybody. I get that. That part I can do in my sleep.
But there are elements at play here that will take some time. Some of the elements are hard to describe other than basic administrative tasks that involve (in my opinion) far too many emails and calendar entries and databases.
My question is this: how can I possibly to be expected to remember all they crammed into my big, old brain today? And how long can I play the “I’m new here” card? Because I need to keep that card in my back pocket.
I feel like my brain has exploded everywhere. The littles are doing as well as expected but they want my undivided attention the second I’m in the driveway. And all I wanted today was a fistful of Motrin and a nap. I got neither. But, I am nursing a head cold so…there’s that.
It’s fine. It’s going to be fine. But today it’s not fine. It’s scary. And my stomach hurts. And I hope I have a better handle on everything tomorrow. I have to remember that I asked, specifically, for this. And I got what I asked for.
For the record, I didn’t have to eat lunch alone and the kids are all nice and I looked pretty good. It’s a start.