First Day

…can be summarized as such:

Cubicles, stereotypical depressing office lighting, printing things, folding things, learning software, and occasionally making my trainer laugh.

Basically, this is as cliché as an office gets, folks.  And I’m okay with that.  The point of quitting was to learn how different offices feel, right?  So, it turns out my old office (which I thought was quite dull and cliché) was quirky and off-beat compared to this place.  Not the people.  I like the people, I think.  Though they all are very… Office-y.  Ya know.  Just, like.  They’re probably all very interesting people, but not at work.  And not even because they want to be professional, but it’s like they shut off the part of their brain that creates original thoughts, just to make it through 8 hours staring at the same 4 walls and answering the phone in the exact same way all goddamn day while you type up spreadsheets that have absolutely no direct meaning to your life.  And you talk to them and it’s all about the weather and Mondays and that daylight saving time bullshit and it’s like their lights have been shut off.  It makes me sad.

But most of them here still seem to have souls, which is good.  And, you know.  It’s only for 6 weeks anyway.

Got back to the guy who wants to phone interview me for a receptionist gig.  He hasn’t e-mailed back with a time yet, but honestly, I don’t really care.  They’d have to offer me either (A) the coolest job ever or (B) a couple bucks an hour more than I can imagine finding elsewhere.  Mainly because they’re an hour away by bus, and I’m not sure if I’m willing to make that kind of commitment unless I’m either making great money or saving the world from spider zombies.

That’s one thing I’ll give you, Retail.  You may work your employees into the ground, but at least you let them keep their personalities.  Most of the time.

At least bits of it, ya know?

And like I said: I don’t think people in offices are not supposed to show their personality, just to keep it all business-like.  I think they just… don’t.  Because it’s like.  Wasted energy.  And looking at the same things every day and interacting with the same people in the same way will rot anyone’s brain.  Retail employees may get shit upon by management, told to be cheery when they feel like shit, and shit like "the customer is always right" gets beaten into their brains.  But holy shit, at least they get to TALK TO NEW PEOPLE EVERY DAY, which by default means NEW EXPERIENCES.  Office workers have nothing.  NOTHING!

Ha ha.  Except it’s great for me, honestly.  Because I really don’t need THAT much stimulus to stay happy.  I mean, my last job was boring as shit, went absolutely nowhere, and took the intelligence of a middling primate.  And it took me TWO YEARS before I got sick of it.  I can work in an office.  Especially if no one bothers me.  I just get to sit there and zone out and maybe listen to music, fold my fucking mailings, click on things, and be happy as a clam.  For a while.  And then after a certain amount of time, I’d have to shake it up again.  But honestly, I enjoy the solitude more than I could ever enjoy the constant interaction of retail.  I needed it when I had it, but fuck, I didn’t want it, and I still don’t.  And now I don’t need it, so fuck it.

I do need some new motherfucking friends, though.  And this doesn’t look like the place to do it.  A lot of older people again, and honestly… How do you get to know people who pocket their personalities the whole time you talk to them?  How would I even convince myself it’s worth the effort when there’s no indicator of a payoff?

This is so, sooooo different from the way I felt when I moved here and got my first job.  I was in love with that place because it was all NEW and SHINY.  And everyone seemed cool and different!  And I developed crushes on people I barely knew, and obsessed about them and built imaginary personalities for them, despite not having spoken to them in any capacity.  And then, when forced to interact, I would stutter and spout nonsense because I felt like I was talking to the Perfect Version of them in my head and it freaked me out.  And that shit hung on for OVER A YEAR before I finally relaxed and stopped being a freak.

I thought maybe exposure to new people would cause the same thing again, but no.  My brain’s like, "Oh, he’s cute." And then a quarter of a second later, "Yeah, too bad everyone’s shitty."

Then I run through a list of random shitty traits people have had in my life, and just automatically assume this guy has "something like that" and then just fucking forget to fantasize about him at all because I didn’t even have time to get my hopes up before my cynicism took a steaming dump on them.

Ugh, I can’t even FANTASIZE about people being worth my time, because it’s too unrealistic.  And I pretend to be in children’s fantasy novels all the time, folks.  ALL.  THE.  TIME.

I feel like I gave up on having "that friend group" a while ago.  You know, the friends you call family.  The people you can imagine growing old with.  That hope was still somewhere inside me when I moved here, but the more people I interact with, the less likely it seems I’ll ever bond that strongly.  To anyone.

Like, I know it’s possible.  People like me exist.  I’ve met them in one-offs before, but the thing is, people like me don’t form CLUBS.  We’re borderline hermits, and it’s not easy to get them to risk interacting with shitty people for the chance to meet good ones.  You need a catalyst.  A socialite.  And socialites don’t hang out with weirdo introverts like myself.  What with our obscure interests and our unusual opinions.  FUCK US.

Not only that, but the people I’ve met who seem like me already have one too many friends.  Because people have already realized how awesome they are, and I meet them too late in the game to save a seat in their heart and, through no fault of their own, I slip through the cracks.  Become the almost-friend.  The cool girl who never quite hung on.

I mean, I know it’ll happen, but the part of my brain that used to actively size people up… It’s either gotten way, way quicker at its assessments, or it’s not assessing at all anymore.  Just assuming the worst and moving on.

I guess I just miss hope.  Or, I kind of don’t, because it was excruciating, but I kind of do, because this… this whatever it is, is fucking boring.

That’s all, y’all.

 

 

 

 

Wait.  No.  One more thing.  Kevin Spacey’s southern accent makes me want to fill his mouth with razor blades.