Settling In

The process of moving doesn't seem to stop. Every apartment has it's own nuances from where the living room light switch is to where the cabinet door handles are, and it takes a several moments of confusion to break the old muscle memory. Sometimes, it's continent how we can easily forget that what is not in front of us.

Homes just don't come with everything you need. Normally they just come with a refrigerator and a stove. Everyday I discover something I don't own. Thursday, I spilled Cheerios. "I'll clean this up," I thought. Then, I realized I don't own a broom. Back to CVS. Saturday, "Oh, I'll just reheat what I made on Thursday for lunch." Wait, I don't have a microwave. Back to Linens 'n' Things.

The CVS across the street has a strange habit of selling out of everything I want - besides candy.

The National Symphony played a free show on the Capitol lawn last night. They hadn't rehearsed much for it, but the warm summer evening and the illumination of the Mall behind the stage made it worth seeing.

Nationals vs. Marlins on Wednesday: $5 tickets.

Starting from scratch

Moving-in was a chore. It is arduous process that took several attempts, and isn't over yet.

Last Friday at the Atlanta Airport:
According to our captain, our flight was stuck in afternoon rush hour traffic. There were ten or elven planes ahead of us on the runway. As I found out, in Atlanta time that means two hours.

We waited on the plane with no air conditioning for two hours. Fine. Delays happen. Why then? I had to move in two hours later than expected - ten minutes after storage and CVS closed. The lease was waiting for me when I arrived. I signed and signed and signed. My apartment was just a skeleton of what I envisioned of a home - empty, smelled of new paint, white walls, and a strange echo of every noise.

Unable to get my pillow out of storage, I wrenched out my clothes from Orlando - t-shirts, undershirts, anything soft - used them for a pillow and slept in my coat on the floor. On the floor like a crazed artist living in a studio located in the heart of Brooklyn, I slept on my cold hardwood floors. Worst night of sleep ever. I couldn't wait until the CVS opened at 7 am. I bought soap. I showered. I found out what it's like showering without a bathmat - terrible; drying yourself off in a puddle.

Saturady - Ikea:
Unbelievable. I felt as if I was fed into a giant blue machine. I grabbed my score card and followed the arrows up the escalator diving through the multiple living rooms, dens, bedrooms... A hour later, I had pieced together my media center and dinning room set: black-brown and sand. All earth tones for my space-age bachelor pad.

Sunday - Target. Crowed, I had to walk out to the parking lot to get a cart.

Monday - Ikea furniture arrives.
I hate putting together Ikea furniture. If I have to see another tiny screw or wooden peg again I'd rather poke myself in the eye. My TV comes next week.

Vocabulary

Training is over. That means I've learned something. Whether that something is useful will probably be a question I'll struggle with over the next two years.

Let me share the new vocabulary I've learned:

Networking (v.) - Drinking on the weekdays, typically at an open bar that only serves beer and cheep wine.

Staffed (v.) - to have ability to charge hours to the client.

Deck (n.) - a printed version of a PowerPoint slide, commonly for a proposal. Each slide should to look like it was worth $400/hour, regardless if that is the true value of the information it conveys.

PowerPoint (n.) - Everyone's favorite program, where templates don't work the way they should.

Add Value (phrase) - a catch all saying that describes what we're supposed to do.

I'll have to look into that. (phrase) - answer to a question that you didn't understand, but might be valid; however, there is a high probability that the question is gibberish.

Solving Complex Business Problems (phrase) - making PowerPoint presentations.

The Wall

Wow, well this blog hit the wall when I started working. On the flight home from Dallas I started a post. It died shortly after I got off the plane. There's no internet during flights; there are only small seats and no snacks - unless you fly Midwest then you get their signature cookie service. I swear they bake those cookies in-flight.

The English language and I are engaged in a constant struggle. It throws new words and phrases at me everyday, and my mind lets them dissolve into a gray abyss. It's time to fight back. Someway some how. Maybe I'll read with a dictionary at hand - my strongest tool.

I should get back to paying attention during training, but I'm going to post this now incomplete before I decide against it.

Here's what I wrote in-flight on August 10, and never posted:

"There’s something exhausting about sitting down all day. I feel that it’s fitting to start my first weekend since I started my 9 to 5 on a plane. Well, calling it a 9 – 5 is an ineffective way of describing it. It’s more of an 8 am to 10 pm (half day Saturday). The wheezing air conditioner above my head blends well with the white noise of the aircraft, and the Dallas concrete expanse drifts away from my sight. These seats are small. I am not small. Therefore, I do not fit in this seat. I would call this argument reasonable, but not logical. There’s no concept of scale in the argument.

For the majority of last week, people talked at me, but not just me – rather a room full of 250 analysts. With two 20 foot projector screens behind at their backs, a lavalier mic, and a clicker in their hands they talked. And talked. I felt that I was in an infomercial for a pyramid scheme – a painful one.

I have this strange habit of blogging in flight. I thought about making it a concept blog. How about write as much about the person next to you until they speak up? Well that would only be amusing to me, since the reader wouldn’t have the same perspective. There has to be something I could do to amuse both you and me."