Hey, did you guys know I totally got a job? No, seriously. I know you didn’t realize, but it’s true. And it is true, also, that there is a lot to dislike about having a 9 to 5 (or 10 – 6) gig in an office, at a desk, working for the man every night and day. And it is true that I can wring thousands and thousands of words out of the indignity of full-time employment; it is additionally and finally true that I’m a little tired of writing about how tough things are and how so-tragic it is to have a job while the economy goes straight to hell.
We’re moving into a weekend, and I don’t remember being so grateful for the end of the week in all my long days. I have liked weekends before, but I don’t think I ever liked them the way I am crushing on this one right here. I would like to remind myself, as this first week of being back in the traditional workforce winds down and I have two days which I would prefer not be filled with dread and fear, that there are many things that are good, some things that are great, and one or two things that might even be awesome about this whole thing. Then I can move on to the other things there are to think about in the world, like candy corn and dancing girls and universal health care.
I like having a routine–it is good, it is comforting, it feels peaceful
and organized to get up and move through a prescribed set of neat and
well-choreographed motions. It’s like tai chi, only with a walk to the
train in high heels at the end. I like high heels, and picking out cute
and professional-yet-funky outfits, wearing make up, doing my hair,
feeling pulled-together and attractive and ready to face the world. I
like facing the world, getting out of the house, and looking at the
sky–this morning, tented over with clouds. Getting out of the house,
and talking to people. Realizing how out of practice I was, stammering
through my first few days of small talk, coming back into my own.
Remembering how to joke with people. Remembering that I like people.
Remembering that people like me in return. Realizing that I can make
friends at this place, worried and happy that I will (wappy? horried?).
I like being busy all day, steadily. I like proofreading–it is
incredibly satisfying to hunt down errors and grind them into dust. It
is weirdly rewarding to go at a document with my red pen until it looks
like I’ve brutally hacked at it and left it for dead. It is a tiny
little frisson, each time I catch an error that had previously been
missed–a shock of recognition, a moment of clarity, a little bit of
glee to mark that sucker right up. Some pride and self-satisfaction.
There’s an inbox and an outbox, and I do my work well, and swiftly. I
like that they know I do my job well, because hearing that you’re
awesome–it doesn’t get old.
I like coming home. I like coming home so much, to my house, my cat, my couch, and my bed. Switching out of cute clothes and into cute
pajamas. Switching off my head, for awhile, and cuddling my cat. A
full-body stretch on the bed, the satisfaction of knowing I have time
to myself and can fill them up however I like, because the whole rest
of the day I’ve been busy, productive, kicking ass, and taking names.
Going to bed after a long day. Falling right to sleep. Weekends.
This will be a good one. You guys should have a good one, too.