I’m sitting right in the sun in the only comfy chair that isn’t ripped. And I’m sweating. I should move to a table, probably. But I probably won’t.
James is out today, so I’ve been super busy on the floor. The kid’s doing I dunno what, so I’ve been on the tugger for the last 2 1/2 hours.
I had to count down blue boxes. I did not enjoy it. I hate telling people they have to go to cardboard. I’m uncomfortable that it’s my call who goes to cardboard and who doesn’t. They don’t really mind, though.
I’ll get used to it, I’m sure.
It’s weird to think I’ll have been here a year next week. I started February 15.
I think Evan started not long after me, maybe a month or two later. I can remember thinking, oh, they got a new guy. I thought he was much younger than 50, though. I thought he was just a kid.
He does have a youthful appearance.
I still have Evan on the brain because I’m thinking about HR, and talking to them.
Would it be crazy to stay here, even if they offered me that other job?
Let’s not go there, yet. I haven’t even landed an in-person interview.
It wouldn’t be so crazy, would it? I already know I like it here. Would it really make sense to be unhappy somewhere else?
Just not being here would be enough to make me unhappy. What if, on top of that, it wasn’t a good fit?
Oh, will you look at that, whaddyouknow, I went there, after all. Oops.
I feel like if there weren’t any really hard decisions in my life, I would create them. Does that make sense?