Jaci Dawn

Despite my best attempts to pretend it is not happening, my desk is almost completely packed and the office looks like the aftermath of Gremlins. The walls show little black imprints where art and motivational posters were hanging (wonder why we all had a hard time breathing when the heater came on? Gee, look at that black stuff on the wall). The classroom is littered with the discards from other people’s desks. My car is filled with the discards from other people’s desks.

Not really, but I have picked up a few items.

The vultures are circling.

I went into Greg’s office and put my name on his desk. He hadn’t even packed his stuff yet. Sorry Greg. But it is a nice desk.

Nerves are frayed. There have been several times this week when someone snapped at someone over something unrelated, and sometimes it didn’t happen at work but happened in the personal arena. Some of us have cried. We cry, not because we are sad, but crying releases stress.

I remember a pastor’s wife who berated us as a congregation for crying. I wanted to slap her then and I want to slap her now. Crying releases stress. Crying to release stress is different from crying to manipulate. It is Okay to cry to release stress.

We made a trial run out to the “new” office, to see where our desks would go and to measure our new offices. We are going from cubicles to private offices, which may or may not be a step up. I think that depends on who your roomie is and your ability to work with them in the same room.

My new office is narrow and deep. My desk will be by the door because I will have a printer on my desk that others use and they will need easy access to the printer. My roomie will be in the back. Her only worry was that I was going to make her sit with her back to the door. I promised her that I envisioned her facing the door. I would be claustrophobic with my back to the door, why would I do that to her?

We had to make schematics to help the movers place furniture. Being the artistic type, I came home and photo-copied some graph paper. I have a binder of graph paper masters. I picked one that I could make 6″ to a square, thus being relatively accurate. Our office is going to be cramped.

It’s a good sign when your roomie says, “Oh, you used graph paper! I would have totally used graph paper!”

I am nervous. There’s no place to hide when I take my lunch: no cute diner within walking distance or Starbucks on the corner. (What!? No Starbucks within walking distance? Are we still in Portland? How can that be?) The office kitchen is a dismal set-up with scarcely enough room for a microwave, coffee machine and a counter. I will need my car to hide in during my lunch to decompress.

There are no walking paths. No pretty ponds with ducks and geese. The view is of US 26 (The Sunset Highway) and MAX tracks. The trees are young and there’s no shade. The pretty business park we have been located in is giving way to an industrial park. <sigh> This is something God will have to explain to me some day: why He keeps moving me further into the urban world when my heart is in nature.

I have scoped out the commute and there’s only one route that works for me. But I know what lanes to be in and when. I won’t know what the time commitment is until I drive it a few times, but I do know that compared to public transportation, it will be faster to drive myself. I am hoping that it doesn’t become too onerous to drive. My husband already knows he will be cooking dinner every work night. He’s a better cook, anyway.

In the midst of it all, we have found ways to make ourselves laugh. We’ve tossed out jokes. One liners. Lifelines.

There’s a stairwell in the new building, three flights. I am grossly out of shape. A stairwell is a great place to go work out frustration and build up the strength in ones’ legs. I didn’t scope out the stairwell, but I have a friend who is willing to be my accountability partner on the stairs. Up-up-up, down-down-down. Repeat. Feel the burn.

There are new people to meet. We’re sharing space with a branch office and I have to opportunity to meet some real estate agents I have not yet met (but I am certain I have cut commission checks for). There’s the potential to make friends with people who work in the other businesses in the same building. I met my dear friend over at nana’sneedlenook in a very similar building where she worked and I worked, but in different businesses.

There are old friends to meet. Several of my very dear and very old acquaintances live over in the area where I will now be working. I have lost track of them for the most part, keeping in touch only through social media (such a new tool!), but now we will be able to get together and reconnect in real life. I foresee lunch dates.

One of those dear friends is going through chemo for breast cancer. The hospital she goes to is right across the street. I have the opportunity to be more than a cheering section on Facebook: I can be a real, live support person. I am looking forward to being able to do that.

It’s 21 miles from my home at a time when gas prices are rising. I am not looking forward to that.

When I weigh the positives and negatives, they seem to balance out. It’s no more negative than positive at this point in the move. And maybe the fact that I finally have a job I really like tips the scale in the direction of more positive. I’m trying to be optimistic.

While I go through these changes, I am thinking of another blogger friend of mine who is going through some huge job changes, too. She hasn’t blogged about them, so I don’t feel right in sharing them, but she has a great blog if you love horses. Er, mules. (Sorry, Louie – mules!) You can check her blog out at Louie, the Little Brown Mule.

One thing is for certain: change is what binds us together. Anyone else going through it right now who wants to share?

Going slowly nuts… love, me