Work

So I'm now a working stiff. I've begun work in Accounts Payable at Digitas. The details of the job are relevant, but I don't suppose they're interesting enough to write here. In short, I get a bunch of bills from different companies, and then I help my company write the checks. At least that's the basic idea.
There's been a lot of new stuff these first few days. There's the commute, which is really pretty easy; I walk two blocks to the T, get off in three stops, then walk three blocks. I work on the 19th floor of a new building right on the edge of Boston's financial district. I've got a shiny new cubicle, which you can see right here. There's been so much to absorb, but it's all been pretty cool. I think part of that is the novelty of all these new situations. Hopefully when the novelty wears off, I won't become entirely disenchanted with riding the T with all the other commuters and waiting for the slow elevators and all that other stuff.

Through the first week, I had a wide range of emotions when I came home from work in the evenings. The first two days (a general orientation on the first day and exposure to everything I'll be doing on the second) were pretty overwhelming. I was totally intimidated by everything I needed to learn. But by Thursday, thanks to feeling more comfortable with the work and getting to know my coworkers better, I felt a lot better about it all. So things are good.

I got a job

I'm working for a big company in a tall building downtown and keeping track of their money.


OK, that's not entirely fair, and I'm not trying to demean the position. (Lord knows I'm pretty excited about it.) But that's kind of what I'm doing.

It all started in mid-September when I talked with an alum who works at Digitas. Soon after, I heard from HR at Digitas and set up an interview. I remember the morning of the interview clearly. I woke up with James Taylor playing in my head. I don't know why. It was "How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)." I checked, this is the full name of the song. Needless to say, that first interview went pretty well. I got invited back for a second one. Apparently that one went well too, because they made an offer a few days later.

So yeah, I got a job. And I'm sure I'll have more to say once I start work (Monday).

Warning: this is an "AOK Story"

In an effort to help save the world, I gave blood at Mass. General this morning. It was my first time donating and a pretty quick, easy experience. While I was sitting in the chair giving blood, I was thinking about all the shopping trips we do at our apartment. Specifically, I was thinking about how quickly we go through bananas. The last time we went to the store I bought 10 bananas for the house. Before the end of the second day, they were all gone. This is a lot of bananas. Which reminds me of this time I ate a lot of bananas back in high school.

Dianne had just come back from the store, and had bought five bananas. And I was pretty hungry, as I'd probably just come back from practice or something. So I had a banana. And since it was really good, and everyone knows that bananas are the greatest snack ever, partly because they come in their own disposable wrapper, I had a second banana. I ran off to my room, thinking, "man, I'm still pretty hungry..." So I came back to the kitchen and had a third banana.

At this point only two of the five original bananas remained. To be honest, the fourth banana was a blur. I don't really remember eating it, though I do remember throwing out the peel and thinking, "there's four banana peels in the garbage. That's pretty funny." My thoughts then turned to the fact that if I'd come this far, I might as well eat the fifth banana. So I did just that.

Dianne realized a while later that there were no bananas on the fruit stand and figured she'd forgotten them in the car when she unloaded the groceries, so she checked the trunk. When she returned I told her that I'd eaten all five. She didn't really believe me and just assumed that she'd forgotten them in her cart at the supermarket. Then she checked the garbage and saw five banana peels and realized what I'd done and laughed at me.



And that's the story. I'm sure you can't believe that I just wrote all this about eating bananas. I can't believe it either. But going back to when I was sitting at the blood center... I think the moral of the story, if there is one, is that bananas are a great thing. And that while my housemates may be prolific in their consumption, I am a bigger fan than they can possibly fathom.