Alert readers with fairly good memory skills will recall that last week's post slipped in a tiny mention of the end of my job search...and the good news is, the search didn't end because I gave up, but because the incantations I pronounced over my resume and LinkedIn profile finally took effect and fooled some fool into hiring me.
For a while, at least.
Officially, this position with DocumentCzar will last nine months, but there's already talk about how the more amazing I am the more likely it will turn into a long-term gig.
No pressure there.
The biggest pressure for me, actually, is centered in the central area of my body...round about the bladder. Being back in the highly-processed air of an office environment, trying to keep hydrated by ingesting copious amounts of water, I find myself needing to make a few trips down the hallway to the men's room. (There IS a slightly closer rest room, but its door says "whoa men"...I'm not allowed to "go" there.)
At least it's a nice rest room: Touchless dispensers for soap and paper towels, aromatic oils, soft lighting....
The problem is, there's lots of people in this office. People who apparently have the same issue with bladder function as I do. It took me five trips before I got to stand at the grown-up's urinal. Until then, I was stuck trying to hit the mark at the Billy Barty Memorial Porcelain Pee Pot.
And don't even get me started on what happens when I need to do more than a stand-up job.
("Eww...can we move on to a different subject, please?")
Biggest perk so far: my manager keeps a bowl of chocolate on her desk; available for any and all raiders. I've already gained three pounds.