My First Day
Today was my first day of work at Company That Shall Remain Unnamed Because I Don't Want Them To Google and Subsequently Fire Me. If there was ever a more inauspicious beginning to the rest of someone's professional career, I haven't heard of it. Ok, that's not true, but my morning was still pretty bad.
I don't use an alarm clock because I'm immune to them. In fact, if the powers that be ever decided to make "sleeping through six consecutive air raids at close proximity" an Olympic event, I think I'd gather in the bronze. The sixth refrain of the Mexican hat dance song I have set as my cell phone alarm finally woke me up at 7:40. I had to pick out my clothes, make breakfast, shower, and be at work at 9. It should've been an easy task. Fate thought otherwise. Finding my nice presentable clothes proved too difficult because they're still in boxes that I haven't unpacked after moving home from school, so I had to wear clothes from high school that prominently showcased my holiday weight. I had to poop mid-shower. My "good god you're a fatty" shirt needed ironing, and I had to grease myself with lard to slide into my 30 Waist pants. Irony is such a bitch. By the time I ate my breakfast of hastily scrambled eggs and the end piece of bread, it was 8:40.
Fuck. I'm going to be late for my first day.
However, fate smiled upon me, and cleared up 635 West all the way to work. Could my luck be changing? Could one of the eight lottery tickets I bought yesterday hit the jackpot? 17 Miles in 18 minutes, I think so!
The first day of work is always tedious, when it comes to introductions. I got to the point where I stopped thinking of greetings, and just repeated what the person said back to them with a slightly different inflection. "Nice to meet you." "Oh, nice to meet you!" Damn the people who got creative and personal. "Congratulations on graduating!" "Oh. Um, nice to meet you!"
The rest of the day was more of the same. Sit in your cube. Install software on your computer. Repeat for the next three hours. Resist the urge to install AIM or read ESPN.com on your first day. That being said, I think Page2 is trying to get people in trouble, with their bright yellow background. Why can't they make it look more like a spreadsheet, or the Outlook Express interface?
But all in all, it wasn't so bad. If I was paid hourly, which I'm not, I earned three dollars just for pooping at work. I suppose my favorite moment was when this younger looking (older than me, but younger than most everyone else) chick invited me to lunch on Friday with a bunch of other younger coworkers, saying something to the effect of "Us young people have to stick together."
New friends and a steady paycheck. Does a job get any better?
I don't use an alarm clock because I'm immune to them. In fact, if the powers that be ever decided to make "sleeping through six consecutive air raids at close proximity" an Olympic event, I think I'd gather in the bronze. The sixth refrain of the Mexican hat dance song I have set as my cell phone alarm finally woke me up at 7:40. I had to pick out my clothes, make breakfast, shower, and be at work at 9. It should've been an easy task. Fate thought otherwise. Finding my nice presentable clothes proved too difficult because they're still in boxes that I haven't unpacked after moving home from school, so I had to wear clothes from high school that prominently showcased my holiday weight. I had to poop mid-shower. My "good god you're a fatty" shirt needed ironing, and I had to grease myself with lard to slide into my 30 Waist pants. Irony is such a bitch. By the time I ate my breakfast of hastily scrambled eggs and the end piece of bread, it was 8:40.
Fuck. I'm going to be late for my first day.
However, fate smiled upon me, and cleared up 635 West all the way to work. Could my luck be changing? Could one of the eight lottery tickets I bought yesterday hit the jackpot? 17 Miles in 18 minutes, I think so!
The first day of work is always tedious, when it comes to introductions. I got to the point where I stopped thinking of greetings, and just repeated what the person said back to them with a slightly different inflection. "Nice to meet you." "Oh, nice to meet you!" Damn the people who got creative and personal. "Congratulations on graduating!" "Oh. Um, nice to meet you!"
The rest of the day was more of the same. Sit in your cube. Install software on your computer. Repeat for the next three hours. Resist the urge to install AIM or read ESPN.com on your first day. That being said, I think Page2 is trying to get people in trouble, with their bright yellow background. Why can't they make it look more like a spreadsheet, or the Outlook Express interface?
But all in all, it wasn't so bad. If I was paid hourly, which I'm not, I earned three dollars just for pooping at work. I suppose my favorite moment was when this younger looking (older than me, but younger than most everyone else) chick invited me to lunch on Friday with a bunch of other younger coworkers, saying something to the effect of "Us young people have to stick together."
New friends and a steady paycheck. Does a job get any better?
posted by Eric at 5:10 PM
1 Comments:
congrats and welcome to the rat race!
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