Back in the Saddle Again

The harbingers are positive. A text message that landed long after I was asleep the night before my return to work: "Drink plenty of water. Get up and walk around your desk a few times. Love, Me" I texted back: "<3 <3" Early morning email in my ear - hey, the alert tone had to be on, I needed to get up in a couple of hours!

-- On Mon, 8/8/11, Johnny   wrote:
From: Johnny
To: limesnow57@yahoo.com
Date: Monday, August 8, 2011, 3:31 AM
good luck and have a great first day at work    
johnny

He's a taxi driver delivering fares to the finest gentlemens' clubs in the valley. 3:31 a.m. is the middle of his workday. What counts is that he processed, first, that I'm going to work and, second, that this could be difficult for me. "Remember, if you need me, I'm off all day and I'll have the cell phone with me." I remembered that. I got up, roasted about 40 harvests worth of fresh vegetables I didn't take care of Sunday night, ground extra coffee beans and found the early morning newscast on TV that I used to enjoy. The veggies will feed me several meals, the extra beans will ensure that no Folger's passes my lips, and half-listening to the news will make me later appear less like I just left a sanatorium for a rest-cure of a year. I hope. My favorite woman weathercaster is still on and making me grin. Las Vegas is wimpy this year. We've had not one day in excess of 112-degrees officially, and what the heezy is the matter with us for that?

More emails and text messages landed: "I'm thinking about you!" "Knock 'em dead." I felt truly supported and grateful.

Things I forgot :

1. Some intersections in our city require more than 4 minutes to cross.
2. When one needs gas in the car, she needs to add 5-7 minutes to the trip.
3. A commute of twice the distance in the dead-opposite direction is going to take some getting used to.
4. The black cat will have curled up on the light clothes, the white cat on the dark ones. How do they do that when one only steps away for a moment?
5. The red cowgirl boots are the cutest, but highly impractical for a first day that includes moving stuff around the work area.
6. "The weekend" means Saturday and Sunday, free days, sandwiched between workdays. People do fun things on the weekends.

Distressed in the car on the way, I thought about other women who are doing brave things, and, after all, I'm simply returning somewhere familiar to work - what I do! Work. I was not (and will not be, in the future) competing in a triathlon like CramCake and her friend. I will not steal her thunder about her performance - one must watch my sidebar for her post. Unlike intrepid blog friend Doozyanner (who is already posting about her adventures), I was not about to hie myself off to teach in Abu-freaking-Dhabi, all by myself at a mature age. I was just going to work. So what the . . it hit me as I made my last major turn. I've been there before and highly regarded. I let down myself and many, many others when I crashed and burned a year ago. Badly. I'd need to do much better this time, and I felt a little pressure. Deep breath . . .

I may not be Rolling Stone, but I have my list of the 500 top hits of all time. I hadn't heard some of them in awhile and they sounded damned sweet . .

• Here are all your keys. Give me 4 digits you'd like to have for your access code. Easy!
• If you'll give me 10 minutes, your new computer and software are here. Love me some Windows 7 and Office 2010!
• Would you like 2 monitors or 3? Oh, difficult choices!
• Don't worry about how it's been done here before. Start popping ideas. OK, let me warm up.
• We need you to fix about 25 Excel formulas everyone messed up. I'm the girl who counts on her fingers and toes and sometimes learns new software applications by using sticky notes and many tears, but in this world I am the champ at this task.
• Give me a list of everything you'd like in office and break room supplies. He laughed at me when I asked for binder clips and liquid creamer with no fat or sugar.
• Check this letter. We're pitching Maria Sharapova's people. [Yes, the Russian tennis pro.] Can you kick it up a notch? That's what I do!

I was asked how it is going. My first response has been "at warp speed". I'm tired, but not crazed. I'm working hard to balance everything I need to do. Four years ago when I went to work for David, I noted it was the first job I ever took where I caught on to things just one beat slower than I once might have. Oh, once I grasped something, it was mine! But it didn't come as easily as once it would have. I am four years older now, with a year of acute and chronic illness behind me. Once again, I'm working in a field about which I have no previous knowledge. But I'm pretty quick. I feel appreciated ~ maybe even impressive! To myself, too. David shoots downstairs from the carpet company to my office a few times a day (or e-mails) "Can you . . ?" Yes! "Remember how we . . ?" I remember! "Can you replicate that?" Without a doubt! [Note to self: HOW?]

Top tune on my top 500: It isn't really a tune at all. Or a statement. It is a lack of that. It is a business meeting of three where never once were uttered the words, "We don't want you to . . .". There would have been plenty of good reason for that. After all . . . well. But the word "don't" never came up. "Do" was much repeated. "Do what you do. That's why we want you." OK, then. I know what to do.

In my ears right now: