I wish I were kidding.

I was watching a TV show recorded by our beautiful DVR when Brunette Roommate went over to Blond Roommate's room to let out the sleeping Big Puppy. Big Puppy came careening out the door, overjoyed to get the chance to lick our feet and search for some yummy cardboard to eat. I guess she hadn't quite regained all of the feeling in her legs, though, because she executed this weird, hilarious little dance that involved her back legs getting frozen, her front paws sliding forward on a throw rug, and a lot of twisting to avoid falling on her ass. Brunette and I cracked up, and I instinctively reached for the remote to see it happen again.

Yes, I wanted to point a remote at a dog and rewind real life. DVR, I heart you, but you are so messing with my head.

Houston, we have contact

She Who Will Not Look has made eye contact with me two more times. It's so exciting! The first event took place yesterday. I remember because I marked the date on my planner with a large pink heart and googly eyes. Also because it was yesterday. She walked in the door as I was exiting. She looked at me, looked down, possibly said "hi," and kept walking. It counts.

Today's "welcome Dropout to the company" lunch prompted the second occurence. Three of us ordered the same salad, and while we all haha'd, I looked over at her, and oh yes, eye contact was made. Not to mention a deep and personal connection. With our souls. And googly eyes.

Update: OK, this is freaking me out a little. When She Who Will Not Look left the office, she said goodbye WHILE GLANCING AT ME. I'm starting to feel suffocated. Why won't she leave me alooooone?

Arbeit ist Spiel

Yesterday I was quickly thrust (hee) into the real working world of big corporations and blocked websites (boo), but without the work so much. First we had a fire drill at 9:45 AM. And not one of those pansy-ass "fire" "drills" like at my old company, where we stayed on our floor by the elevators for five minutes while one "fire safety" guy from the lobby looked around. Now that I think about it, that wasn't even a drill. The alarm actually was set off, but we still didn't do shit. That would not fly at New Corporation. Oh no, we had to get counted by multiple people in neon jerseys, walk down the stairs and 3 blocks away, and stand single-file to be counted again, causing one man caught up in our impromptu parade to wonder if he was allowed to cross the street with us. (Answer: Maybe. I couldn't tell if he was cute.)

At 4:30 PM I received my first "funny" work email. Oh goody, I have one of those coworkers.

In between those milestones, I took my first picture for a work ID and promptly received my first insult about it. (I am not photogenic.) The picture-taker informed me "Oh yeah, you're gonna be coming back here for a reshoot. Maybe you could wear a jacket, look more professional. You look a little plain." O RLY THX.

I also have my first coworker who will. not. look at me. She has managed to avoid eye contact since we shook hands Tuesday morning. It's the strangest thing, and quite a feat seeing as how there are only three of us in the room. Por ejemplo: Newer Coworker was introducing me to some database, and she called over She Who Will Not Look. They started joking around, and She Who Will Not Look started telling some funny stories about the database, where her desk used to be, and other boring, not-actually-so-funny work stuff. I asked her a question, and her face lit up as she launched into a spirited explanation. To Newer Coworker. I continued to ask her questions, but she would always direct her answers to Newer Coworker, even if it was something NC already knew. Half the time NC wasn't even looking back at her.

OK, fine-she's obviously nice, so maybe she's just shy, and her shyness manifests itself in odd ways. Extremely odd ways... Later in the day, she showed me around the cabinets, explaining what different binders and folders contained and how they were split up (CABINET PARTY!). Through the entire thing, she stared at the binders, the floor, the desk, a spot in the cabinet where a binder used to be-everywhere but at me. Nobody even told her to do this-she just randomly decided I needed to know, yet she still didn't look at me. Also, she's the one who sent me the joke email. Bipolar? I know I'm going to be on the edge of my seat to see how this develops!

Today continued the theme of the official "work"place. I sat through my first real conference room meeting, which was... not good. For me. I had messed-up hair in a ponytail, worse-than-usual skin, no makeup, not enough sleep, a growly stomach, and a spot next to the division VP leading the meeting. Faaaantastic. As if this didn't already draw enough unwanted attention to me, VP started by introducing the group to me and another new person. Our uncommon names are amusingly similar (think Francie and Francine), and the sustained laughter from that pretty much ensures that the two cute guys in the meeting are going to remember me from today's horrible showing, instead of yesterday, when I didn't look like ass and eyed them during the fire drill. Um, not that I'm there to flirt with boys. Especially not during something as important as single-file lines.

On a side note, I discovered something about myself during that meeting. Presenting: Dropout and her journey of self-exploration and sexual discovery in the conference room! Disclaimer: This will not involve a journey, exploration, or sex of any kind. If only. Before the meeting started, a guy across the table from me started talking to somebody, and I immediately got confused and looked up, because he sounded exactly like Cute British Guy (And Almost Boss-Sob). For a split-second I seriously wondered what he was doing there. When I saw that this man was not Cute British Guy, I marveled at how similar their voices sounded. As the meeting wore on and I heard him speak more, I realized that he probably doesn't sound much like CBG at all. I just can't tell British people apart.

Dear Gmail Chat,

I do not like administrative ability to block you. Please discontinue this function.

 

Sincerely,

Your Nemesis For All Time (Or Until This Ends)

 

P.S. I mean, seriously. This has already made me so bored that I've resorted to posting on my blog? For shame.