I started my first day of work on Tuesday. All I really have to say about that is: Really? Every day for the next forty years? DAMNNNNNNNN. Just kidding. Actually, I think it'll be a good fit for me even though I'm in the advertising department rather than the editorial which is where I want to end up. In the end, it's a good job at a magazine that I actually enjoy reading that was offered to me during a recession. I'd like to take this moment to thank my lucky stars. So, thanks, lucky stars.
I walked into work on my first day to find a barf bag in the inbox on my desk. "You'll need this" is what the note read. Hysterical. That paired with the Winston Churchill quote, "if you're going through hell, keep going," taped to my computer didn't sound too promising, but everyone, as expected (yes, including my boss), is really funny, nice, and welcoming.
All in all, I think it's the perfect place for me to have my first job.
The only thing I can complain about right now is the commute. It's about an hour total, mainly because I have to transfer trains and do a decent amount of walking (ironically, as I found out today, my flats are more painful to walk in than my heels). This commute rivals my old two hour commute on the good old Metro North, however, I've learned a few things about public transportation since I've been here.
I used to call the Metro North the "crazy train." I was mistaken. Perhaps a proper distinction should be made between the Metro North and the MTA in ticket prices. It costs $2 to ride the subway, and it costs upwards of $20-30. Now I don't want to stereotype anything, but it's a scientific fact that POOR PEOPLE ARE CRAZY.
Anyway, back when I was on the Metro North, I would find a seat and go to sleep. On the subway, I'm unable to fall asleep because of the fear that my belongings will be stolen, that I'll get sexually assaulted, or because a crazy woman with no teeth would like to serenade the entire car. This happened on my commute home tonight, and while I appreciated the selection of the song ("The Greatest Love of All" by Whitney Houston), her years of drinking grain alcohol and doing crack had done a number on her vocal cords as well as her non-existent teeth. Just saying.
And while I'm sure crazy people singing and everything else that's mildly amusing as a newcomer will quickly become, well, you know, fucking annoying, right now, I love all of this shit. I mean, how can you not?