Oh, man, it's almost three o'clock, which means it's almost time to go home.
My weeks have been flying by, which is great since I spent the last two Wednesdays under the impression that they were, in fact, Tuesdays, and when someone told me that the next day was Thursday I flipped out. I can't decide if this is just hilariously charming in that funny-story kind of way, or if it's actually just depressing that I'm losing entire twenty-four-hour periods of my life. What do you think, Internet? (I'd ask my cat that question if I had one, but since I haven't a Feline Audience of One to ask rhetorical questions, you're the lucky one to be on the receiving end. Congratulations.)
The only exciting thing to happen this week happened, sadly, just forty minutes ago, when I left the warm confines of my office (seriously, I've thought about spending my nights here to avoid a commute that "feels like one degree") to walk to another administrative building to get my picture taken. I was not sure why, exactly, I had to get my picture taken; I had received many emails from a communications director telling me that all "new" employees had to stop by for "a photo shoot." When I got there I was cold from walking half a block. My face was red and my hair a mess from my hat. Then I had to pose up against a greyish beige wall for my picture. And then she explained that it was going in a PowerPoint presentation to be displayed at our division's annual meeting in January. At least I'll be able to be slightly drunk when this happens.
As I was getting ready to leave, the formerly lovely communications director asked me how I liked my new job. I replied immediately: "Eh. It's a job." There you have it, Internet. I can't even pretend to not hate my job in front of members of the head office.