First Real Day

Yesterday was orientation, where I sat in a room all day and listened to necessary but dry presentations broken by short but moving videos that yes, had me teary, dammit,  and glared at the backs of the heads of people who couldn't bring themselves to put their smart phones away for any length of time.

Today, the person I'm supporting was out in meetings all day, so I met with other supervisors on the team, who warned me that my boss does not tolerate looking at phones during meetings.

"A person after my own heart," I said.

My boss, it seems, also subscribes to the theory that nobody is that important, and that it's reasonable to expect people to pay attention.

We then talked about how it was hard to find people who, although they they know how to text with their thumbs, don't know how to use a keyboard, and once again I had a vision of how easy it will be to take over the world one day.

So right now I get up at 5:30 to catch a ride with the neighbor, who works in the same building as I but whose schedule begins an hour earlier than mine. So no quality nap time on the train or subway for me.

This arrangement is basically because public transport in Boston has been less than reliable. At this week's traditional pre-St. Patrick's Day parade breakfast, a local politician spoofed the MBTA with such slogans as, "The MBTA: 100% on time 20% of the time," and "The MBTA: where every day is a 'walk to work' day."

So until some things change, like me getting a car, carpooling it is. I know my neighbor doesn't want to do ti forever and I get that, but I think I've grown on her and why not? I'm delightful.

This morning I had my first taste of Ideal Meets Real. One of the public hallway bathrooms was out of  toilet paper, so I took the number assigned to the toilet, as indicated by the plaque on the wall, put a Post-It to warn people of the dearth of TP, and called Maintenance.

"There's no toilet paper in bathroom 26A," I said.

"Where is the bathroom?"

"It's 26A."

"Yes, but where is it!"

Confused and somewhat taken aback, I gave the building, and the office number next to the bathroom.

"BUT WHERE IS THE BATHROOM."

"I just told you where the bathroom is!"

"That office number -- so it's on the 2nd floor."

"Tell them the hallway," one of the other assistants whispered. So I did. That seemed to work.

"What is the purpose of numbering your bathrooms if you're not going to maintain a directory of them, searchable by their DESIGNATED NUMBER?" I asked the assistant. And if you need something more specific, why don't you say, "Is it in an office, a hallway, what?" if that's what you want to know, rather than just asking the same question, phrased the same way?

World Domination. I tell you, it won't be hard.