T-60 minutes, give or take a few
Eeeeee eeeeep. New job. Starting today. Must leave the apartment in roughly an hour. Must dress up, must pack up, must not throw up! Uh. I don't think there's any danger of my doing that last, but eh, the opportunity for the similar list was too good to skip. Ahem. I'm so mature, aren't I?
So. Frelling. Shelling. Nervous! I'm typo-ing, even. I'm horribly conflicted over here. One part of me keeps going 'You'll be fine, stupid,' while the other half is terribly gun shy on account of the last job ending up in the toilet. I know, I know, the last job ending up in the loo had everything to do with trying to meet crazy sales-type quotas and not much at all to do with me personally, but *still*. I'm terrified I'm going to frak this up too.
*Please*, whatever bright powers are listening, don't let me frak this up too.
I'll report on the state of the new job (holy crap, but that sounds cool, though I don't quite dare count my dragons before they're shelled) when I get home tonight. For the moment, 'scuze me, must go dry my hair.
So. Frelling. Shelling. Nervous! I'm typo-ing, even. I'm horribly conflicted over here. One part of me keeps going 'You'll be fine, stupid,' while the other half is terribly gun shy on account of the last job ending up in the toilet. I know, I know, the last job ending up in the loo had everything to do with trying to meet crazy sales-type quotas and not much at all to do with me personally, but *still*. I'm terrified I'm going to frak this up too.
*Please*, whatever bright powers are listening, don't let me frak this up too.
I'll report on the state of the new job (holy crap, but that sounds cool, though I don't quite dare count my dragons before they're shelled) when I get home tonight. For the moment, 'scuze me, must go dry my hair.