SUGAR HIGH!

I thought I might title the post as something that warn y'all about what may turn into a manic-sounding post. It's Friday, I just got out of work, and I just ingested some Starbucks drink that probably has more sugar than you're supposed to have in a week. YAHOOooOooOOOooooOOO!!!! (that was fun)

So I survived a week. Is that too drastic to say? Is it not accurate to celebarate surviving the first week of a new job? If it makes you feel better, we can say I "finished" a week. Much less dramatic, but nonetheless true. But what is life if not a bit dramatic at times. Or, at least, my life is a bit dramatic all of the time. (wow, you can see the sugar in that sorry excuse for a paragraph)

So, here's an account of various recent happenings in the workplace.

1) I finished my first week of work. Oh yeah, I already mentioned that.

2) I met the most awkward man. He, at the very least, is so shy that he is really, really awkward. I feel so bad for him. He might be a wonderful man. But here's what I've experienced.

Monday, my first day on the job, I saw a lot of unfamiliar faces walk past. Most of them didn't say hello, they just went about their business. One man, however, got about half way across the lobby, saw me, jumped a foot in the air, then literally ran away. I'm not using that term to signify just leaving the scene without communicating, I mean literally running. Head down, bolting for the door. For the next couple of days, every time he walked by (and he walks by more than almost anyone else), he would just stare at his shoes.

By Thursday, he would glance at me every couple of steps, looking terribly frightened and mumbling to himself. It was all I could do to not laugh. Not at him, but just at the absurdity of the situation. Imagine anyone being afraid of me. Exactly. The thought is ridiculous.

I noticed something about this fellow, though. He is always reading on his breaks. At least, I presume he reads on his breaks because he reads as he is walking to and from his breaks. Nose in book, completely absorbed in the contents, but somehow managing to avoid the walls. The book he was reading on Wednesday and Thursday was red. The book he brought in today was blue. This led to our first verbal communication.

He came up the elevator, intently reading. I asked him, in as friendly and non-threatening a voice I could manage, if he'd finished the red book. He looked up, slightly startled, but didn't run away. He asked me what I had said (he hadn't understood what I said) and I repeated the question. I said I noticed him reading and noticed that he'd brought a blue book instead of the red one. He smiled and said he'd finished the red one in two days. I noted that he was a fast reader and his smile widened into a genuine grin. He asked me to buzz him in since his hands were full, which I was happy to do. We're making progress.

3) My boss now knows I'm Catholic
So I have like, a bazillion bosses. But my boss-boss (as far as I can tell, he's the end of my personal chain of command) stopped by my desk today to see how I was. I had met him on Monday, but hadn't really seen him since.

For this story to make sense, I need to share a tidbit. When I sit for too long, my hips pop out of socket. To avoid this dilemma, I have to occasionally kneel on the floor at my computer for five minutes at a time. Ok, so now you know.

Back to the boss-boss. I appreciated that he came by, BUT (and you can probably guess where this is going) he walked in as I was kneeling on the floor. Probably kinda weird for him. He was very professional and stuck to his task, only asking the appropriate question - "How is the job going?" Not "why the heck are you kneeling on the floor???" which is what I would have asked if I had been in his position. So I freely offered the information, explaining my quandary. He laughed and admitted that he wanted to ask, but, as he explained, "then I would end up in HR again getting a lecture." Ah, office policy. He's a guy. I'm not. Hence, questions like "why the heck are you kneeling on the floor???" are apparently faux pax. He offered to get a cushion for me to kneel on. I laughed and told him not to worry about it. "I'm Catholic," I explained. "I'm used to kneeling all the time. And it's Friday, so I could use the extra penance." I begin to suspect he is/was Catholic since this didn't confuse him at all. He just said that Mass was shorter than a work day. True statement. I assured him that I'd let him know if I needed anything. Then he continued on his way to do boss-boss things.

The End.