The Office (Part One)

Well, it's been a week already here in Chocolate City, and I'd be lying if I said that I am thrilled with my new job. Publishing thoughts about one's employer can be a delicate matter, but given the demonstrated computer skills of my coworkers, I don't anticipate being caught anytime soon.

To wit: there are just four other people in my "office," which is housed temporarily in the home of the head honcho. The one with whom I interact the most -- we'll call him "M." -- is a 30-year-old from New Jersey who spends his spare time burning incense, dreaming of bamboo, and dedicating himself to the evolution of his soul. Ordinarily, I do not tend to consort with such people, but under the circumstances a little light entertainment is not to be lamented.

The tasks with which I have been charged thus far do not merit detailed description, but I have already explained to my boss that computer files are not physically stored in the software applications that created them. Compared with other places I have worked, where I was treated either with reluctant patience (for my blundering errors) or utter reverence and awe (for my alacrity and keen attention to detail), my new boss has been surprisingly impatient and schoolmarmish. Each time I am reminded to show more information on my drawings ("Don't just tell me that the computer knows how high the ceilings are..."), part of me wants to scream, and to deride the childish appearance of our company letterhead and the second-rate quality of the design work itself. But a job is just a job and I should be happy, I suppose, to have one.

The above photograph shows what I see each morning on the final leg of my 40-minute commute -- a quarter mile walk along a creek.

We'll have to see how this develops; more to follow soon.