Um, not exactly. But I did get my car back today and my mom can stop worrying about that. I do have to take it back in late next week so they can check the fluid levels and everything. I'm going home next weekend, though, so it shouldn't be too much of a hassle.
Also today, I found out I have completed my training at the new job. They did not get me to quit. I beat them! The Original Trainer gave me a hearty congratulations. My boss said he'd heard nothing but rave reviews of my work. The Trainer said the same thing.
I don't know why, but I either just don't believe them or it doesn't matter. Normally, I'll be proud of a job well done. But so often when they tell me that something I wrote was interesting or fun to read or just really well-done, I feel like they're just feeding me a line of shit. Perhaps its the nature of the work. It is hard for me to fathom that something would be interesting to read if I thought it was painful or boring to write. I made a discussion of the financial services industry interesting to read? Oh, come on. Don't fucking patronize me. Please.
Today was the first time I had a lengthy discussion with my boss since my first couple of days. He asked the same thing everyone not in the New York office has asked me -- "Are you okay? Is everything okay? Do you like this job?" Let me tell you -- I have become quite the diplomat in answering that question. It seems like they want me to succeed. He wants to put me on projects or questions that I find interesting. He wants to utilize my talents (what they are at this job, I'm not entirely sure). The guy who was doing my training last week e-mailed today to ask if I liked working there. He made sure to let me know he was there to be a sounding board or whatever I needed because he "would love to see me succeed at Company X."
I just don't know.
My sister came to pick me up to take me to the shop to get my car and I was telling her the bit about the training being over. Apparently my mom is worried about me. She keeps saying shit like, "Have you talked to your sister? I don't think she likes this job. I don't think it's what she expected. I don't think she's happy."
You know what, lady? I'm not happy. Quite frankly, I thought I was being pretty honest with everyone outside my job that I don't really like my job right now. I was trying to explain to my sister why I have been having such a hard time with it and it kind of ended up sounding like I don't like it because this training has been so fucking hard.
That actually is a big part of it. I don't like it because it is hard. I realize how lame (or shallow or ... whatever) that sounds. But I cannot escape the fact that it is true. I feel like I've never had to work so hard in my life at something. School came easy to me. I didn't even work that hard in grad school, for fuck's sake. I've picked up everything at every job I've ever had pretty damn easily. And here I am, showing up to a job that makes me feel like I'm a moron every. fucking. day. I look at the people around me and I know I'm not working with a bunch of fucking rocket scientists. So why is this so hard for me?
So yeah. I'm not exactly happy. I don't love my job. I don't even think I like my job. At this point, I hope to get to the point where I don't hate it.
But it's time to watch Michael Phelps. Also, fuck these full-body suits!