What Have I Done?

So I've begun. I've begun the portion of my life known as the time when: “I'd rather be pounded from behind by a goat than think about the fact that I've entered the realm of business for 35 years.” For any naysayers, that IS a well-known term.

As things stand right now, I'm in a seat, I have a phone, and I have a non-functional computer. When the government knows you are coming for 6 months, all it means is that some idiot has 6 more months to peruse the latest gossip from Perez Hilton (I hate the fact that I know who that is, and even more so I hate that he is alive) rather than get you into a system that allows you to do *gasp* work. I can't even access the basic necessities of modern business.

And as a side note, I also have the sneaking suspicion that the guys two rows from me wants to wear my skin as a pirate hat. That whole "skin as an overcoat" thing from Silence of the Lambs is way overrated. Pirates hats are totally in style.

With the passing minutes, hours, and days, I'm beginning to realize that I am in it for the long haul. The long haul is actually a specific amount of time somewhere between “the time when I start contemplating leaping out the 4^th floor window,” and “the time when I realize that falling 4 stories won't necessarily kill me.” If I reach the latter point, at least I know I can look forward to being a vegetable. Hey, I'll get all the gelatin I can eat! Grape is my favorite!

Aside from delicious gelatin, I can only look forward to when I reach that glorious time when I can depart for the day (although technically my brain leaves at approximately 7:46am).

When you've spent 25 years of your life never taking yourself seriously, it's a difficult adjustment. All of a sudden, you are supposed to kiss the ass of the socially retarded people, you're supposed to bite your tongue when someone says something moronic, and you are supposed to keep your pants on at work. What bullshit.

I guess one good part of the day is when I sit down and write an essay such as this, because it sure looks like I'm putting together one hell of a report.

“My!” the supervisors say, “The new guy has written an entire report about an Excel spreadsheet that outlines cost estimates! What an employee! Maybe I should read it. Or maybe I should write my own...Oh God I'm going to be fired and he's going to take my position. I can't let that happen...maybe I should just end this misery. GOODBYE CRUEL WORLD!” Then, naturally, they leap out the 4^th floor window. Looks like I'm not the only one who loves grape gelatin.

It figures that someone would steal my idea.

Day 1

6:00am. This ungodly hour exists? Shower. Shave. Clothes. Tie that beautiful tie you handsome devil. Grind the coffee, start the maker, pour a bowl of cereal. Or scotch. Whatever.

Make the first bag lunch you've seen since 5^th grade. Make that PB&J, boy, make it! Throw in that apple. Go on girl! Oh no. No he isn't. Not the...OH GOD HE'S PUTTING IN THE CARROTS! GET IT! UH! YEEEAHHH!

Out the door we go, to catch that train to the nation's capitol. Rise from the gloomy, depressing underground, following a thousand others just like you. Except, they aren't like you. They all seem far less happy and optimistic than you. Most faces have the look that says, “I could have jumped in front of the train, damn it!” But you...you have the look that says, “Hey look at me! I've lived here for 2 weeks and my spirit hasn't been broken!”

Look at you, you've been hired to work in one of the most recognized cities in the world. You've made it to the top! Of the escalator. At the metro station.

Good for you!

It's beautiful, it's sunny, it's...7:02? Go on and kill that extra hour, boy! Walk to the Starbucks. Read that newspaper. Walk outside and...ah shit it's only 7:31. Pace around for 30 minutes...

As I walk in the door I take in the scene. I spent 4...okay, 5 years at college for this. I put in the time, did the projects, the extracurriculars, the crystal meth...wait, shit, scratch that....Busy little bees they are... Apparently most of the work around this office gets done via CNN.com. I begin with a hearty “Good morning! I'm the new guy here complete your work for you!” I know the most important thing about starting a new job is to make a strong first impression. Nothing goes over better than a painted smile and a slight erection. It goes over well. Immediately I receive a response. “Why yes, good man! Here! Take this spreadsheet and transfer numbers from one cell to the other for 3 hours. One at a time please...I don't trust the copy function on these computers.”

It's a different world, this world of business. It's a world that I just don't recognize. There wasn't such a thing as "cutthroat" when I was bartending. Back then it was, "make this drink while simultaneously making fun of the drunk frat boy buying shots for the girls that resemble pygmy hippos." It's a world where the using the term "cumshot" will more than likely get you reprimanded or fired. What the hell is up with that?

3 hours and 1000 Excel spreadsheet cells later, and I've made it. Lunchtime!

I eat my pathetic bag lunch at my desk. I know no one else, I have no responsibilities, and my boss isn't actually in the office. Yeah, that's right, my boss isn't there on my first day. I haven't got much of a choice other than sit and wonder where I'm headed. Hmm............... PB&J just isn't quite as delectable as I remember...

I hang around for another hour and am informed that I can leave for the day. When I come in as the low man, I expect to be there 2 hours after everyone else leaves. I'm leaving at 1pm?

PEACE OUT SUCKAS!

This is a year in the life of a new hire. Some things may relate to your experience in this new and unforgiving world of business, and some may not. This isn't just a year in the life of a new hire, though. This is a year in the life of a new hire...in the government.

As I walk out the door, contemplating the first day, I run into the man who was orienting me with the facilities. We exchange pleasantries for a moment, and I walk off, headed towards the metro. As I'm walking away, I'm startled when I hear my name yelled from behind me. The man is still standing there, and he sends me off with a glorious bid farewell...."Hey! Don't take a cumshot on your way home!"

Maybe this won't be so bad after all...or will it?