Oliver’s mother called me a little while ago to wish me luck tomorrow.
I paused for a moment, drawing a complete and total blank.
(Light bulb flickers and then beams strongly) Oh yes! My first day at my new job is tomorrow!
I let her think it was a German language mistake, but it had completely slipped my mind. Instead I was concentrating very hard on avoiding studying for my driving test which is quickly becoming My New Personal Everest. This avoidance took the form of rabid apartment cleaning, something I rarely do and even more rarely ever do well.
Oliver knew immediately when he walked in the door what I’d been up to.
As he put it, there is only one thing that would make me vaccum and clean the shoe closet and it is not likely love of him. Procrastination is great motivation to do “anything but”.
But now I am thinking about the fact that my new job starts tomorrow. I have to look up all my bank and visa information for them and get together all that “first-day” stuff. I have to decide what to wear and most likely clean and iron it.
The dress code there seems pretty casual but of course you can’t go comfortable on the first day, especially when you still have to finalilze approval for your already-long-ago-booked vacation you hope they will be ok with.
I have always hated first days. I worry about finding where I need to go, getting lost, humiliating myself somehow and making a bad first impression. In high school I was so concerned about finding the stairs and my relief at finding them was so strong it overpowered my ability to deal with gravity and I promptly stepped on my own bookbag and fell flat, blocking all foot traffic and creating a huge scene that everyone remembered for years.
But at least I probably can’t top that one.
Cross your fingers and think of me, here I go again!