I like variety, but change…not so much. The past two weeks have been all about change. I decided the time had come to work on getting my CPA license which meant leaving my old job. It’s taken all the extra energy I have to adjust from working with a total staff of 13 in an older building in NE Portland to my new downtown job where a staff of 140+ people covers 2 floors. It’s meant saying goodbye to coworkers who have become family. It’s meant crying because I’ll miss my boss who has become my friend. (Poor guy, I blubbered in my typical fashion, but he took it well.)
The new job means meeting new people, learning a new accounting system and procedures, and generally feeling like a dork. It’s means taking public transportation – the light rail train named MAX. MAX has it’s own set of challenges and changes, namely people. Lots of different kinds of people. It means little personal space and getting up close with sounds and smells. My favorite.
For instance, on my first day of work, I listened to a man with a cold snort every few minutes for most of my trip. I don’t mean a little sniffle. I mean a full on, loud, I-really-mean-it, SNORT. After 35 minutes, I couldn’t tune it out. The more I tried not to hear it, the louder it seemed to get. And then it struck my as funny. I tried hard not to laugh and therefore succeeded in just smiling. Finally, I relieved the tension by texting my husband about it. His reply? “Did you offer him a kleenex?” No sympathy from a man who has ridden MAX for 14 years.
I’m pleased to say that even after some tears, I think I’m beginning to adjust.
Work Home Balance 
Oh my! What a huge change. Good luck with this and of course, keep us posted! Use those absurd (snorty) moments as inspiration for your writing. I completely understood what you meant about trying to tune it out, but it became louder!! It was good to hear from you.
I figure the riding MAX will provide plenty of fodder for writing and entertainment. It’s good to be writing again, too. I was so overwhelmed with adjusting to my new job and the changes it brought to family routines that I’m just now starting to feel settled enough to post.
I feel you! I have now begun to refer to those without homes who carry all their earthly belongings in a grocery cart as mobile homes. I felt so uncomfortable as I walked through one couple’s bedroom as she read the paper in bed. I’m torn between compassion, guilt, and frustration and sometimes fear as there is nothing I can do to help and the situation is so foreign to me. I’m used to my suburb not the “big” city. I feel like an out of place yokal. (hmm that is spelled wrong)
It’s the weirdest feeling to be walking next to the person dressed in a business suit and the woman pushing her heaping grocery cart.
Jennifer,
I love your posts. Seems like I changed jobs about every 3 to 5 years. Moving up meant changing jobs.