2002-02-28 - 9:45 p.m.

I really need to figure out some way to describe the setting, as it will be fodder for many, many entries, I can tell you that already. Let's put it this way. There are two kinds of people in that office : the hip kids, and the business people. I don't think I need to tell you which group I belong to. And it's funny to watch. I see the guy from a conservative collections company, wearing khakis and a button down oxford and loafers, tell my friend Maria she didn't get him what he needed. And I watched Maria, sitting crosslegged in her chair, swinging her stiletto - booted toe, answer, "Did you call me? Because I didn't hear my phone ringing." Khaki boy, stuttering a little, "Well, you know, it's the nature of the business. Gotta keep a lot of balls in the air." Thrown out in a joking, almost pleading manner. And Maria, handing him the file, "Yeah, you got balls, alright." It was all good-natured, but I could practically FEEL the guy squirming in his skin. Heh.

And me? Well, I'm friends with the cool kids, but I'm the calm in this frenetic environment. I'm the corporately trained, coming to help bring order to the chaos. It's amazing to me that they even DO business, they're so emotional. But this is perfect for me, because I don't want to lose the emotional. I think you can run a business, and keep it fun and exciting and real. I have come with a company that's bought in, and I'm used to their ways. I started without a computer OR a phone. I called the necessary people, had the phone done. Called and coordinated the IT guy and the home office to have my computer delivered and set up. I told them I needed it done, up and running by Friday, and they did it. The computer came today, the MIS guy is coming tomorrow morning. I loooooove the MIS guy, and he loves me too. And not in a dirty way, either. Heh. Anyway, this is what you do at work, right? This is not rocket science, this is making some phone calls. The hip kids? They cannot believe this shit. All day long: "That's your computer? You got that ALREADY? Damn, you've only been here two days." "Yeah, you should have heard her. She DEMANDED it." Uh, no. I asked them to do it, and they did. I think the office may be sorely lacking in basic problem solving skills.

But damn, it's fun. And crazy busy. Music through the office ALL DAY LONG. Bowls of candy, and little bags of mini oreos, and water and soda and cappuccino. Designers and architects talking passionately, taking pictures, checking the lighting. No senior management. (LOVE the satellite office. Really.) Ownership of your tasks. Camaraderie. Crazy Audrey, standing over the railing of the staircase, lifting her shirt to show us her new bra. The crazy gorilla mural painted on the cement staircase that leads to the roof, where we go to smoke. Tentative phone calls from my own company's management, quizzing me on the transition. It's all good.

But all the candy, and the PR sample pulling, and the music, and the orders, and the phone calls and the pizza and the cigarette breaks with my old friends? It's kicked my ass. I'm going to watch TV and defy my President.

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