The Trickster

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Oh yes, I am.

The Trickster.

See….soooomehow, in the course of a series of interviews, a fairly well crafted resume and a bunch of conversations, I’ve managed to convince the procurement organization of a well respected Fortune 500 corporation to award me the title of Senior Manager complete with an office (with a window that has a really nice view) and a fairly robust staff of minons to do my bidding.

Me. The goofball from New Mexico. The kid who, once upon a time, had to be taken to the doctor because I got a piñon nut stuck up my nose.

That one.

For some reason they actually think I might be…..good.

Damn. I convinced them. Now what?

I’m pretty sure I’m a fraud.

Day 3, the rubber is, you know, sort of starting to meet the road.

Can I shove another piñon nut up my nose and sidestep this responsibility?

No, probably not. Guess I better just keep showing up and trying to make good on who they seem to think I am.

Abject fear. Whatta rush.

Day 2

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Brain at capacity.

Hoping to resurface soon.

I come home from work exhausted.

Not a NaNo word has been written in a couple days. I go from being caught up to falling behind…again. *sigh*

I got an office today. An actual office with a door and a pretty nice view out of the window.

And I get to use a Mac!

A little bit of familiar in days filled with the vastly unfamiliar.

Met all of my direct reports today. They don’t seem too upset or hostile about my appearance. We’ll see how this goes.

Meanwhile, I’m still the new kid at school but so far I’ve made a few friends, so maybe this won’t be so bad.

Here’s hoping.

Meanwhile, pardon me while I go try to keep my overtaxed brain from leaping from my noggin.

I plan to sleep profoundly tonight.

First Day at the new school

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I remember, lo these many years ago, one year when it was time to return to school, my mom packed up all the supplies she’d bought from the teacher’s list of requirements into a brown paper grocery bag. Then she sat me, dressed in my new school clothes, next to the bag on the carved wooden bench near the front door and took a picture.

It was a “first day of school” photo.

I searched high and low in all my photo albums for this photo to scan and post today, but sadly I could not find it (it’s there, but just didn’t dig far enough). I did, however, find my first communion photo, taken seated on that same bench in a fluffy white dress and little veil, but figured the effect was just not the same.

The reason for me recalling both that day and that photograph, is that today, I started my new job at a brand new company. And I felt as nervous and jittery as I did in second grade wondering if I would like the place, if the other kids would like me back, and if I was doomed to eating lunch all by myself for the duration.

Day One of the new place was not so bad. My mind is a bit blown with all the information handed out during the day. I’m working for a company that is smaller, less high profile, but more important to the “greater good”. I work for a company filled with PhD scientist types. Brilliant folks, all sharp as a whip and it takes work for me to keep up.

It’s a lot like my old employer in a lot of ways (most of them good). It’s also very different in a lot of ways.

But none of that matters. What matters is I spent nine and a half years at my last job. I’d built up friends, confidants, and credibility. I knew where the bodies and the land mines were buried. People knew me, knew I would do a good job, and trusted me.

Today, people don’t know me from Adam and I have zero credibility. All that must be built, and it’s a long process.

I have to learn the names of new and strange (and let’s face it, rather geeky) executives. I have to learn a bit of biology and a skosh of chemistry to keep up with the conversations. I have to be able to speak clinically about some big hairy scary human diseases, which is going to be a tough change for my sensitive soul.

But mainly, I have to survive. I need this job. Mr. Jones keeps stealing my money and while I was feeling ok about things a few weeks back, I’ve finally succumbed to the fear and horror this economy has sent our way. I like feeling comfortable about my financial situation and loathe worrying over something as ridiculous as money.

And yes, I’m quite grateful to have a good job in these troubled times.

I did make a friend today. She was very nice and agreed to be my “new hire” pal. I have a new hire pal from the old place. He and I are still friends and celebrated every work anniversary by saying to each other, “god, you still work here?” I expect the same from my new friend.

Tomorrow I’m plunged into the icy waters of my new team. I met a couple ladies today who will by my direct reports and they eyed me suspiciously, but were friendly enough.

Hopefully no one will steal my lunch money and someone will let me sit at the table with them at noontime.

And hopefully someone will tell me how to find my way to the bathroom. That’s essential.

Tuesday is going to be a really long day.

Arithromance

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Not to be confused with arithmancy, the art of divination using numbers.

No, I’m talking romance here…and, uh, numbers.

You see, I have a sweet, fatty love.

No, not The Good Man. It’s rude that you thought that. :)

No, my love is creamy, and delicious. And the best topping Mexican food ever met.

I’m talking the fantastic invention that is…Sour Cream.

Oh sweet love.

And here’s where the numbers come in…did you know that if you took a spoon out of the drawer and used it to eat an entire Costco three pound tub of sweet, delicious sour cream, you’d only be out 2,700 calories?

45 servings times 60 calories a serving.

I mean…not so bad, right?

I believe this is the type of post that, when read by the good man, he will remark, “I can’t believe you blogged about that.”

Believe it, Cute Boy.