first week impressions

So all my first day mania of different impressions have began to die down. I am slowly becoming acquainted to my new job description and environs. My misleadingly large (and temporary until new space cube) office had me whirling as to what I was exactly supposed to do in there. The only books on the shelves were a really old edition of Elements of Writing Style and Design in the Electronic Age with a clip art illustration of some Rennaissance peeps working on a desktop computer.

One thing that continues to bother me is the commute out of the city. I have always felt compelled to work close-by. I mean its the city right? brimming with activity and industry thats why I chose to live here. So for now I will have to focus on the quiet retreat it lends. When I walk outside I can hear my footsteps. Here, between the Young Unwed Mothers Agressive Debate Club late everynight and the firehouse up the street, my mind is swimming with my own thoughts and the sounds of trouble all around me. Those moments at work even just walking to the cafeteria where my pace is the only metronome for my thoughts for what feels like a good mile away. Pretty nice.

I've also had a 75% cutback on obsessive financial hysteria. What an interrupting cow to my thoughts that was! This is just the first week--when I am sitting home on a paid holiday, I am sure I will have a lot more things to say about Senor 9-5.

first day on the jarb you find:

While heading to Panera bread in the backseat of my new coworkers car, surrounded by countless Simply Red cds, I heard the song on the radio that couldn't have acted on me more in an 80's y6acht rock sense.

I must have relayed 20 times today to all the nice people who asked about my first day-- routine is the key to all my comments. My previous routine was chaos, the consistent routine of drama. now 8 am and conversations about weight watchers. the only conversations I had before were on im about photos, flickr, css, or the occassional ball $having debate.

I am looking forward to sleep right now. Thats what I will think about tomorrow should I have another Bruce Hornsby moment, or even just a memory of that keyboard flourish.

last rituals

Today I had an amalgamation of all my freelance day activities-- Playstation, flickr, elimidate, guitar, and dishwashing. To switch it up, I decided to take a drive even though it was crappy out. It reminded me of an article in Harpers about prison inmates last meals. Heres a sample. dramatic comparision, I know. I am arbitrarily whiny about my great new job, but mostly cause I can't pinpoint whatso upsetting bout it. ps. I had the catfish with lemon risotto and some gingersnaps and a tylenol p.m.