Feeling: Competent
Listening to: the resonant beep of fax machines
Reading/Watching: Still Tom Welling. Smallville season finale last night, eehee.

This is fun.

It's not perfection, since perfection would be a 9-5 creative writing job that paid $20 an hour and a moonlighting job as a Broadway singer, but last I checked, Heaven's about fifty or sixty years in the future for me.

This is my second day on the job. We are by no means entirely settled yet. But scary as yesterday was (they basically told me how to log on to the computer, handed me half a dozen file folders and said "go"), I'm catching on quickly, as I'm intended to (it's a bit of a sink-or-swim situation... never thought I'd envy Drew's job as switchboard, but since he's earning the same as me...). I could do this. It's do-able. Maybe not forever, but definitely for a summer. And think what kind of work experience this'll give me, working in bank reposessions and insurance and stuff.

I feel capable. I'm used to feeling twitty and bumble-footed and very, very young. Granted, my first couple hours yesterday were like that, but now I know what I'm doing, and people appreciate my help. Yay.

Okay, that's all I have time to say right now. I might add more tomorrow or something, concerning how my parents are behaving the past week or so. It's an amusing story, in retrospect, no matter how irritating it was at the time.

I pack my lunch, I carpool, I spend my lunch break on the internet, I even have a little hands-free-head-clippy-phone.

I am thisclose to becoming a vignette from Office Space.

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