Since streaming wasn’t a possibility, my plan was to check
email as frequently as possible and keep the ticker up.
Last week was also my first week working with my supervisor
in his normal position. He’s been back for two weeks, but the week before he’d
been subbing for someone else. Ergo, my first week of “normal.”
Well, “normal” seems to be a pedal-to-the-floor kind of pace
so far. It’s not, I don’t think, that it’s an abnormally large workload, it’s
just that I have absolutely nothing to go on. My predecessor left no files, no
explanation, no handy tips, so I am starting from scratch. The few things I
have heard murmurings of aren’t applicable, as my supervisor is new to the
position, too.
There will be a lot of detail work, and at the moment,
there’s a big row to hoe in front of me trying to get it all lined up. I’m
holding out hope that in the end, things will fall into place.
At the moment, everything is so very much harder than it
should be, even little things like walking over to the storage and picking up a
few supplies. That’s infinitely easier than maneuvering this purchasing
software, but it’s still more complicated than it should be.
It should be me walking to a store room, opening a door and
grabbing a few items off the shelf, then signing for them. And while I wouldn’t
call that a perfect system, it seems like it should be easy enough.
Well, Tuesday, day of The Game, I needed to go grab
something simple – 2014 calendars. And since I’d asked, I knew the warehouse
had them. Only when I went out there, first of all the door was locked and once
I finally got into the main warehouse, I found the storage room sealed. Well,
dadgum.
I went back to my desk and did more stuff, then checked
again. Still closed.
Right before the game was to start, I had to go to the
fourth floor for something. That’s where the procurement people are, and I
asked about the warehouse. She said it was open. I said I’d been there twice
already and no one was there. She assured me the guy had come in late and was
there.
So right before game time, I ran out there and picked up
what I needed. I had to argue to get it because apparently my predecessor had
these but the whole “predecessor” thing implies the person is no longer here.
If the things are around, I don’t know where they are. I arrived to a
completely empty desk.
Armed with the calendars, I arrived back and foolishly
thought I’d check the score. No. I sat down and holy cow, the fire alarm went
off.
And when I saw “went off,” that is a gross understatement.
It went off RIGHT above my head. If I had screamed, no one would have heard me.
It was so freaking loud I had to cover my ears to keep them from bleeding.
At first, I thought it was a “duck and cover” drill. I was
trying to focus on what day it was while not focusing on not bursting my
eardrums. The drills are on Wednesdays, but there was never anything that loud.
I was looking at my desk, trying to figure out how I was going to practice
“duck and cover” while clamping my hands to my ears, which was necessary to
avoid permanent ear damage.
Then someone came by and mouthed – or maybe he said it; I
sure couldn’t tell – “cafeteria” and I realized it wasn’t a scheduled drill. In
the end, there was no fire, but the alarm had gone off so we had to abandon
ship.
Since my desk is right by the door, I had no idea I couldn’t
go out that one and wandered around to the back and down the stairs. At that
point, anything to get out of the noise, although I knew the game was going on.
We had to wait for an all-clear outside and once we made it
back in, not only was it 10-3 but I’d missed my appointment for my TB test.
I tried running up to the heath unit then – there’s a TV in
there – but it was still locked from the drill. Later, I emailed her and she
was up there, so I went up to get the test and to check out the game, which I
knew at that point wasn’t good.
I got there in time to see Auburn
miss a field goal, then went and got pricked with a pin (negative!) and when I
came out, not three minutes later, Auburn
had scored again. Not good.
Barry, who was at the game, sent an update at halftime:
“This sucks.”
Fortunately for me, the fourth quarter coincided with my
lunch hour, and I went back up to the health unit armed with my peanut butter
sandwich, chips and moon pie.
It was agonizing. When they scored on the 100-yard run, I
got up and screamed and ran into the hall. There was no one there, which might
have been a good thing.
I went back in and freaked out while Auburn scored again, then held my breath on
the final run. I jumped up again and screamed at the TD and scared someone who
was coming in to weigh herself. She tried to humor me, but I think I blew her
mind. I don’t even remember who it was.
By that time, lunch was over and I couldn’t stay for the
trophy presentation. I saw it later on a broadcast here and four words for Candy
Fisher: spit out the gum. That was not classy. If I can offer a bit more
unsolicited advice: your kid needs a haircut. Badly.
But your husband looks good with a crystal trophy in front
of him. He did look a little goofy running down the sidelines to the 100-yard
run, but I was also up and screaming, so I can’t really criticize that.
Barry's text after the game: "Happy happy happy." Man of few words, but I think he summed it up properly.
Back at work, it was like nothing had happened. I tried to
muster up some excitement, but there just aren’t any college football fans.
This is one thing that frightens me about foreign service:
being so totally removed from America
that you forget where you’re from. I do not want that to happen to me.
I don’t think it will. I can look around and within sight, I
can see three FSU things (I just put up my Christmas stocking, or that would be
four.) And my shipment isn’t even here yet.
Native Nole, born and raised. That will never change.
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