First Day

It’s my first day at my new job. I felt like a kid on his first day of school. Everything was new to me, including the office. Yes, I got my own office (but it’s only temporary until we move to the other side of the floor in September). Its view is not as spectacular as the rest, but I still could see some greenery and the bay. Plus, pop, juice, coffee and tea were free. I was beginning to like my job.

In the afternoon, I met Sharon, the company’s former freelance proofreader, for the turnover of duties. I felt bad taking this job away from her, but she still graciously showed me the ropes. (I’ve learned during my interview with Leanne, the creative director, that they offered this job to her, but she declined because she’d rather work on a contractual basis.) She only had two tips for me: Admit your mistakes and never be afraid to ask (don’t assume anything).

It was almost 5:00 p.m. when we ended our meeting, which Sharon and I closed with a handshake and wishes of luck. I didn’t want to leave exactly on the hour, lest I be labeled a clock watcher. But Deb, one of the production managers whose favourite expression was “My bark is worse than my bite,” admonished me not to stay late as the front doors were locked and alarms set by 5 p.m. to avoid theft. That’s fine by me.

And for the first time in months, I left work and walked towards the bus stop with a grin like a Cheshire cat.