I started my new job today.  You’ll understand if I don’t tell you too much about it.  Stupid internet with its stupid search engines and impossible to maintain anonymity.

I can tell you this:  since I last was at this place, a branch of my absolute favorite coffee shop in the city opened up a half block away.  This is big news.  I am no longer a slave to the Starbucks on the corner!  I have choices!  I can vote with my feet!  Better coffee for all!  I spent a very pleasant half hour there this morning, waiting for it to be 9:15 so I could be prompt but not too eager-beaver-early on my first day.  (It’s always awkward, isn’t it?  You allow yourself waaaaay too much time for the commute, just in case, because Murphy’s law of first days of work says that if something can go wrong on the el it will, then of course because you have allowed for extra time you don’t need it at all, and you arrive waaaaay too early and have to kill an awkward half hour in the middle of bustling downtown, before any of the good stores are open.  Harrumph.)

I also, somewhat to my surprise, have my own office.  It is affectionately referred to as “the locker” by my coworkers.  At first I assumed from this nickname that it would be small.  In fact it is huge.  The “locker” is meant as in “meat locker.”  As in “it was 57 degrees in there today hoo boy I can’t WAIT for February!” As in “I believe I now am totally entitled to buy myself a new sweater and write it off as a business expense.”

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