today i walked into the new york office (not boston because they dont do training there) of my new company with my (mothers hand-me-down) suit pressed to sharp edges and my (H&M) heels clacking on the marble floor of the lobby, bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to meet my "colleagues" and find out about my new "career" and get "oriented."
8 hours later, having sat for almost the entire time in a 5 by 5 conference room that was hot enough to hold a Bikram yoga session, I staggered out of the office dragging behind me the following desperately depressing items:
my 100 page policies and procedures handbook, including information on"death or dismemberment in the workplace"
my 100+ page so-called "office survival guide" including completely unintelligible information on the four different computer programs ill need to understand to do my job
a new blackberry thats already beeping at me with emails from people i don't know with so many functions im pretty sure if i touch it a small country somewhere will explode
a ten pound PC they also felt the need to bestow upon me, the girl who's loyally used a mac since they were made of orange rubber
and as if that weren't generous enough, it came complete with a heinous black over the shoulder computer bag that my mother will promptly light on fire as the high crime of all fashion that it is.
between the physical and emotional weight of these new "gifts" and the effects of my 8 hours of computer tutorial in a sauna, i was really trudging across union square to the subway and i happened to pass a girl about 14 or 15 years old sitting on a bench in the park with what was clearly a highlighted script in her lap. she was reciting the lines to herself and as she did her face was contorting into the most wonderful range of expressions. i actually stopped to watch her. and i actually cried. i actually cried a lot.
when i was her age i wanted to be an actress. a comedian, to be honest. i wanted to make people laugh.
i KNOW that i will learn a tremendous amount from this kind of job. but the reality hit home with a vengeance today and i think what scared me the most was the idea that i accepted this job to be in a new and lovely city with new and lovely people with access to old and lovely friends and family... and this potentially wretched job might actually be so evil that it offers no fullfillment or joy AND doesnt allow me time or energy to do the things that give me fullfillment and joy... or to see the people who make me feel fullfilled and joyous.
to say that im questioning my choices is an understatement. i am also filled with a guilt ive never felt before but have been waiting to creep up on me: that im turning my back on my creative side. that when i finally extract myself from this job i will be creatively deadened. the worst would not be if i quit, the worst would be if i quit and couldnt write a play about it.
but thats where you come in. keep me sane. keep me creative. keep me laughing at myself and for godsake, keep me away from that crackberry.
ill leave you with this, part of a conversation i had last night with a friend about being so-called "grown up" im putting it up here so you can all bear witness to the idealism that i still have in me... an idealism ill be trying my best to protect over the coming months.
"to be a 'grown up' i think, implies the completion of a process, it implies you've done your growing and youve arrived at some final point that is far from where you began. i dont want to be that. i dont want to ever stop growing or learning and i dont ever want to reject the child thats so much a part of me. but lifes demanded a lot of answers recently, and really DEMANDED them- to the big questions of what i want and where i'm going with this job and to the little formalities of 'real' life like what it means that my days off are prorated or how to get a decent cable/internet package for my new home- and people, including myself, scramble for the answers because the world has no patience for people who are figuring life out slowly, our society places a premium on having the answers, having a plan, knowing your shit..so we brainlessly strive for the semblance of security, the appearance of having the answers. people chase the final stage, not the process. and thats so sad to me and yet im going to walk into the office tomorrow in head to toe business causal attire and its in my best interest to appear "grown up." and it scares me. thats all. anyway, hopefully being aware of the degree to which im actually grown as opposed to how grown i might have to act to survive will help keep me honest. "
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