My new life begins today, and what a life it will be–judging by what I have already managed to do. I think I’m being clever by going to the 8:30 meeting. Just get the meeting over with, I say to myself. I bring Josephine Tey with me to keep me company and keep my workout clothes close by. I’m already a tad anxious because, even though I’ve done the school thing before, I’m not so sure that I’m ready to devote myself to its strenuous kill-joy hours again. I have already broken out in a rash (I’m not sure if I’ve told you this before or not, but I get a rash whenever I experience a strong emotion–whether it be fear, joy, sadness, or utter indifference.) And by the time my turn has come to introduce myself, I no longer know who I am or whom I am working for. So I lie and say “the Division of Communication.” Now the room of new employees believes I am going to be teaching speech. Oh well.
I am prepared to go to a 9:30 meeting in the library when I hear the speaker say, “If your dean did not contact you and invite you to this meeting, then you don’t need to go.” So I gladly skip off to go running. It’s odd how addictive it has become, especially on days when I have put nothing into my body except one cup of coffee with two tablespoons of Nestle dulce de leche creamer. While I sweat off my nerves, my boss texts me and (thankfully) lets me know that the meeting was more for her than for me. At the end of my two-and-a-half-mile run, I think I am about to throw up so I go sit in the restroom for half an hour and kill five cockroaches.
With another half-hour before my meeting with my boss, I decide to scout out my new office, hoping to find it unoccupied. The amount of dust in the room could very well have been the equivalent of another human being, and I know exactly how I will spend tomorrow–courting some furniture polish and a broom. I settle down in what will be my desk (the other had already been taken) and continue reading about Miss Pym, the author with elephant legs, when my office mate shows up. Thankfully, I did not have to say much, other than the “hello” and “how are you?” questions of politeness that no one really wants an answer to. I do watch her out of the corner of my eye with interest, however, because she seems intent on setting up the office immediately when there is still another week before school begins. I begin to wonder if I should be as earnest in my preparations but decide that tomorrow is plenty of time to get acquainted with my surroundings.
I walk up to my meeting on third floor and promptly spit water on two passersby, drop my water bottle on my boss’s floor, and dump the files all over. At least I have the files; I thought I was going to have to steal them from another office. As exciting as that would have been, I’m glad to be denied that responsibility. While meeting with my boss, I learn that there is another meeting that I have to go to tomorrow–in fact, there are meetings every morning that I have to go to. So much for sleeping in. So much for pleading ignorance.
I leave this meeting with my boss and am told to go meet with my adviser because, of course, I have not registered for classes yet. Have I become more laid back in my old age, or has everyone else become more hyper? This transition will not be as easy as I had hoped.
I did decide to be responsible this afternoon and NOT watch movies. I vacuumed, did dishes, and got my notebooks and cleaning supplies ready for tomorrow. I even registered for classes and to my great chagrin discovered that I will be unable to be in choir because the schedules don’t line up. At least the Lord has shown me His will without me embarrassing myself in front of the music faculty.
I guess I will show up tomorrow at an 8:30 meeting, my only consolation being that universities don’t usually burn people at the stake. On a much happier note, I got to wander slowly all over campus, knowing how unconventional I looked and laughing silently to myself that soon I would not have to walk alone but will have a friend to join me. And when I got to the post office, I had a package from Sharon waiting for me, filled with English tea and biscuits. How can I be despondent when a little bit of London has come my way?