First Day at My New Job

Today was the first day of a new position, in a new place, with lots of new faces. I think I talked to more people today than I have talked  to in the past three weeks. I hope they forgive me when I don’t remember their names tomorrow, because it’s bound to happen.

The highlight of the day was our off-site lunch at Chuy’s. The food was mediocre at best, although it did taste acceptable since it was free. Free food, or food from your momma’s plate, always tastes just a tiny bit better. I went to lunch with two supervisors of the new group. I asked them why they hired me, and to my delight, they told me that I had loads of personality and was genuine. Not that I seemed to have personality or that I seemed genuine…they just said the words with such a confident, matter-of-fact way. That just made my day.

It is always a little strange when someone tells me that I have “personality.” Everyone has a personality, but not all of us are accused of “having personality”, meaning, having some little interesting spark about oneself that delights other people. Well, that’s how I like to define the phrase anyway.

Hearing someone tell me that I “have personality” feels like it has been a long time in the making for me. I grew up in a small, but boisterous and extroverted family, save for myself. I was and still am the quiet, strange one. My family is full of lively, loud people, eager to talk to folks, invite people over for card games and mixed drinks. I’ve only invited people over one time for drinks and I have very little inclination to do it again. Most of the people in my family make friends easily and seem to have never met a stranger. I, on the other hand, am a magnet for strange and uncomfortable interactions with strangers. I try to see the good in these random interactions, and think of them as little “hellos” from the angels or the universe, reminding me that I’m not as alone as I sometimes think I am. Although, I am not complaining of being alone. There’s nothing I like more than being alone.

All that to say, it was really, really very nice for almost complete strangers to feel that I am personable, genuine, and maybe a little humorous. Maybe a little witty. Maybe a little something special or extra.

Here are some photos from the rest of my day.

This is my selfie in the car, taken as I arrived at the visitor’s gate, for the last time. Shortly after this shot was taken, I was no longer a visitor!

This is the stupid, long line that I had to wait through to get through security. I am glad I was very early.I had time to wait patiently in this line, because I knew it was unlikely that I would be late. I am thankful that I am an early and timely person. Otherwise, I would have been freaking the freak out when I saw this long line. I listened to Ludacris and Iggy Azalea while I waited in line.

I finally got close enough to see the sign! HELLO, big red! Nice sign y’all got there.

Upon my first trip to the restroom, I noticed that they were giving out free tampons. Wow, these people must be rolling in the dough to just leave tampons out like that, free for the taking. What is this? The gynecologist’s office?

I snuck this selfie in when I had unpacked one monitor. That look says “I think someone’s coming, but I am living on the edge.” #danger

This is my first flash drive, memory stick, whatever they’re called these days. I commented on how cute she is and how I noticed that she is a SHE. I have seen these things around, but I’ve never seen a female one. She and I were dressed alike today, wearing red, white, and black, with some super fierce red lips. You better WORK! Oh, wait, no, really, tomorrow, I guess I better WORK. Like for real work.

I’ve decided to go back tomorrow and sprinkle some more of my personality all around the office.

Dear Summertime

I’m about sick of you. I really am.

I understand that I live in Houston, Texas. I didn’t come here expecting snow. But, your relentlessness this summer is really quite inhumane.

Thanks to you and the humidity, all the Black girls have frizzy, dry hair. I am one of them.

Thanks to you and the sun, all the White girls have sunburn. Y’all are racist! I should have both you and the sun arrested!

Where is Fall? I heard you put her in a cell under a mountain or in Yankee Stadium or something, next to where that mobster dude is buried. Y’all are trifling and need to go dig her out as soon as possible.

Your heat is ridiculous; you’re ridiculous!

I should not feel joy when I see that the temperature will only get up to 93F today. That’s still hot as hell, literally, but my brain has been friend by your terrible heat, so I can no longer make rational decisions with my emotions.

You can come back next year, but for this year, could you please kick rocks?

Sincerely,

 All Humans Alive in the Southern American States

Travel Lightly

I just finished packing the stuff from my drawers in my (soon to be) old and vacant office. Aside from larger items, like my radiator style heater and wall art, all of my possessions fit into two, plastic grocery bags.

See here:

 

This was very refreshing to me.  I sat and thought about how over four years of my life had resulted in filling two grocery bags. Sitting back in my $400, corporate provided chair, I thought, wow, that’s pretty darn cool.

Although I have worked at one company for four years, met countless people, gone on trips, completed lots of projects, sent hundreds of emails, etc., my physical belongings can fit in two grocery bags. Isn’t that remarkably awesome?

The most important parts of this job will leave with me in my head and my heart. I will always have memories of how terrified I was during the first several months of employment, afraid that I would mess up or forget to put the page numbers on the PowerPoint slides, again. I always, always, always forget to put the damn page numbers on the PowerPoint slides, EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

I will always have the memory of how one subject matter expert, aka SME, decided to finally “help” me with a project. He came into my office while eating an apple and proceeded to lean over my shoulder and “help” me, ending with him releasing a spit and apple juice combo from his mouth and onto my nearby papers. I have never let anyone stand over me since then.

I will always have the memory of how I decided to recycle (like a dork) and rolled my recycling bin out to the collection dumpster, on an especially windy day. My papers took off like beautiful, copy paper butterflies, fluttering around the whole damn parking lot, while I chased the stupid papers wearing heels and a too tight skirt. I remember wondering if I should reach under the Audis and more expensive cars to retrieve the papers, fearing the alarms would go off, and some French manager would come out and fire me for touching their car.

I will always have the memories of all of my co-workers. The one who asked me my name four times the day she met me. The one who always had the most uninteresting drunk stories to tell. The one who came to work pregnant until two days before her delivery date, and never made a fuss about it. The one who, after four years of knowing me, confided in me that her son was a recovering drug addict. The one who I am sure has never particularly cared for a Black person her whole life until she met me, which made me both happy and uncomfortable simultaneously. And lastly, the tall handsome one, who loves cats, but also loves changing his mood as frequently as I change my underwear…which is fairly frequent.

After all those stories, and the many, many more now permanently apart of my memories, mind, and soul, after all those years of driving here, I am leaving with two, plastic grocery bags. It’s ridiculous and refreshing.

The moral is pack lightly, travel lightly. The important stuff will happen to you, and you will be able to take it with you without an extra baggage fee. Your interactions, your opportunities, your experiences, yourself…they’re all much too great to fit into any grocery bag.

Even if you have two.

New Beginnings

The past year has been filled with change for me. At some points, I went somewhat willingly. At other times, I was dragged along by life, metaphorically kicking and screaming. I am much too proper and quiet to do any actual kicking and screaming.

Think about the things that make you comfortable right now, the things that you’re “used to.” A few of those things might be:

• A spouse or partner
• A house / living location
• Your long term plans
• Your expectations for your current life
• Your expectations for your future life

 

For me, all of those things have changed within the last 12 months. And I’m excited to announce three MORE things:

1. I successfully survived and thrived through all that change.
2. I am better for having lived through all those changes.
3. AND ANOTHER THING IS ABOUT TO CHANGE!

As of Monday, September 15, I am changing jobs. My new job is a promotion which I have worked hard for. No, I’m still not rich, so you can’t borrow $5 or $500, so don’t ask.

Approximately a month from now, my living location will also change, to shorten my commute to my new office and provide me with a marginally necessary fireplace. Oh, how I love a fireplace, even though I basically live in Hades also known as southeast Texas.

I am not happy about all of this change. I am joyous. I haven’t always felt how I currently feel. It has taken a very long time for me to get to the joyous and excited stage. Recently, I was stuck in the “fearful” stage. I cried. I thought about changing my mind. I thought about how I was simply sick of change and I “needed” something, anything, to remain the same.

But after prayer, thinking time, and just plain ole time passing (which is the best emotional healer of all), I came to an obvious and joyous conclusion: Change is good.

Somewhere along the way, I forgot that change can be not only good, but great. Exhilarating! Exciting! As time, life, and disappointment has aged my once young and easily excited psyche, I have become grouchier, quicker to think negatively, hungrier for sameness and comfort. But luckily, I have not grown more complacent. And the little remaining shreds of fiery desire to be something, do something, live something, and see something, lots of some things…those little shreds are still enough to keep the flames of courage going.

I won’t say that I am fearless. I will say that I am trying anyway.

I won’t say that I am perfect. I will say that I always give my best.

I won’t say that I will be safe. I will one day say that I have lived.

And with those words of inspiration, which I wrote for myself, I am preparing to leave this part of my life behind and embark on a new journey.

I am all packed and…