Charming, but single

I started the new job this week, hence the lack of updates. I’m not quite used to waking up at 6 a.m. every morning, especially given that I almost always stay awake until at least 1 a.m. So, by the time I fight traffic and get home — hopefully before 6 p.m., I am beat. Totally worn out. In need of a nap.

Being a grown-up sucks.

I still did drinks per our regular arrangement on Wednesday. (I say drinks because everyone else had several. I had one and left by 11 p.m.) It was a small crowd, but we had a good time.

I like the job. There’s a pretty steep learning curve, but I’m keeping up so far. I freaking hate acronyms, though. I need an interpreter to have a conversation with some people, because they speak more in letters than in actual words. I swear, I have to go to a conference in a few weeks and I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE SUBJECT MATTER IS. At all. All I have is the acronym and date. I told my boss that I had some questions about it and he said we’d address them next week. Hmmmph. (And yes, I did google the damn thing. No luck!)

Luckily one of my good friends from college works with me, so we’ve been lunching and e-mailing and gossiping. She was supposed to give me a run-down of cute single guys, but there are none. Really. I saw a few guys my age down the hall in another section cubes, but I’ll never have a reason to go down there and investigate. (Unless I become addicted to junk food, as the snack machine is on the other side of the never-ending swath of cubes. Too bad I have cut candy out of my life. It was a toxic relationship — I relied on candy and candy loved that I indulged in it, but the joy was short-lived and it always left me with more problems than good times in the end. Sigh.)

Last night I hung out with some friends, but we really didn’t do much. They’re swamped with school-related things and I’m boring because I’m still not used to my job.

Again, being a grown-up sucks.

Will probably go out and do something low-key and inexpensive. Next week I get my first adult-sized paycheck (albeit only for a week) and I can promise that Saturday night will be booze-soaked and brilliant. (Maybe not so much brilliant, but I liked the alliteration.)

I promise I’ll do something stupid or drink too much and get philosophical or make-out with a boy or SOMETHING blogworthy during the next few days. I don’t want to become “Charming, but a workaholic.”