You guys. I am having the panic attack of the century.
Tomorrow is my first day at my new job and I am freaking out. Freaking out. Freaking out.
Like, I just took a shower with a glass of wine and my favorite yanni album and stood under that water for infinitely too long and tried to talk myself out of this post, freaking out. And here I am.
I may or may not have locked myself in the pantry before it was acceptable to pour a glass of wine, earlier today. Just to keep my head from exploding.
And the crazy thing is that I have NEVER felt this way before. This is like off the charts ridiculous, because I have been trying to get a job at the local school district since before we actually moved here. And it’s the night before my first day and I am a mess. And not a hot one, either.
Earlier this week, I was walking our ridiculously adorable puppy with the husband when we ran into a brand new neighbor. She was falling all over herself to love on our pups (she’s that cute), so we started making small talk. She told us where she was moving from and where she worked, which was as a teacher in the same district. I was pretty excited about this, so I shared that I was just hired for the same district! So exciting, right? Yes. Until she asked what projects I would be managing, as the HR Project Tech, as I’d just introduced myself. And she was met with…
Because I had literally NO idea what projects I would be technologizing. So I told her I could tell her, but I’d have to kill her. And did some weird hyena laugh. And was saved by the rain that chose that moment to fall. And then I pushed that awkward moment out of my head with some major Nordstrom binge shopping.
Until today. When I realized tomorrow was the big day, I know no one where I’m working. I don’t know what the magical code is to get into the door. I don’t know where they eat lunch. I don’t know where the bathrooms are. And I truthfully have no idea what my job really is.
I know I can do hard things. I survived an amazing job with a terrifically terrible manager for far too long. Two years with days where I had to scream through Dave Grohl songs at ear splitting levels on my drive to work just to push myself through those double doors. Two years where I’d crouch in my office with the door closed, or in the bathroom with the door barricaded, face splotchy and heaving those awful ugly tears of frustration. So this is nothing. I can do it and then some.
So I’ll walk in there and act like I freaking invented this HR Project Technician position. I think it will involve a lot of interpretive dancing. Maybe a twirly skirt and some cowboy boots. Definitely some chocolate. Hopefully no hyena laughs. And at the end of the day, if they let me keep the job, I will report back on all of my technological expeditions. And there will be no killing. Unless you’re being inappropriate or telling off color jokes. Because this is HR, people.