Things I Hate About My New Job

Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty damn happy at my new job. It's challenging enough to keep me engaged but not so hard that I could burst into tears at any moment. The closest I've come to crying so far was at the end of my first week, when one of the nice HR folks came into my office and said she just wanted to let me know how happy they were to have me here. Yeah, I welled up. I might have been a tiny little bit tired.

That having been said (as they say in reality television before they vote someone out of the game) here are a few things that I hate about my new job.

Weekend warriors. Now I have to do my errands on the weekends with all the other idiots. And yes, I count myself among them. Last weekend on the way home from the mall someone beeped at me to let me know that I was driving poorly. After trying to cram two week's worth of errands into one Saturday morning, I wished there was some way I could let the guy know that he was totally right.

Idiot drivers. Although I have an easy commute, I do have to share the road with the other idiots who are on their way to and from school and work. And yes, I count myself among them, too. At the end of the day I can go for three whole blocks without paying any attention whatsoever to what I'm doing. Pretty soon, as I get more used to the drive, I'll be able to get all the way home on autopilot. My advice: get out of my way and don't try to say I didn't warn you.

Being a fashion victim. You would think that a woman in her 30s would be perfectly capable of getting dressed in the morning and wouldn't have to try on three different outfits at a minimum. But you would be wrong. I have been working in my pajamas since 2000. It turns out I no longer know how to dress myself.

Performance anxiety. I've been working from home for so long I'd forgotten what it was like to go to the bathroom with other people in the room. People who are listening to what you are doing. People who might recognize your shoes.

Work stoppages. When my body senses it is in a foreign environment, it has the tendency to shut down production. When I'm at work, my body thinks I'm on vacation no matter how much coffee I drink. I used to know a girl who would sneak home from work to go to the bathroom. Now I'm on the verge of becoming that girl.

OK, sorry for the graphic descriptions of my, uh, driving skills. And don't tell me to put out my outfit the night before. Because I live in New England, and in order to plan your outfit the night before you have to have some inkling of what the weather is going to be like the next day.