New Jobs and Zombies

I will be spending an hour or so each day this week at my old job. This is either called "leaving my old job with grace" or "ha ha, we suckered you into doing exactly what we wanted."

Haven't quite figured that one out yet.

But today starts the new job. Today is the "bring two forms of identification-where is the bathroom-oh my god you only have Sanka coffee!-how do I work the copier and do you have a microwave"-day.

I was a little concerned because I wasn't even having the slightest bit of anxiety. Anxiety can be a good thing in a situation like this. It makes you double check to see if your neon colored paisley underwear is showing through your new slacks. It makes you check your nose for any low hanging detritus. It makes you say your new name out loud in front of the mirror twenty-three times so there will be no wobbles in your voice when you introduce yourself.

But I have the nerves of steel thing going right now. Granted I did change my clothes three times this morning and I made sure my super soaker make-up gun was not set to "whore", but aside from that I'm feeling pretty good.

I've come to the conclusion that my anxiety neurons have fried out over the last few months. Unless there is an actual building on fire that contains three puppies, two kittens, and a baby, my likely biological response will be "Hmm, I wonder if there are still cookies in the kitchen."

I have also concluded that, should the inevitable zombie apocalypse actually happen, I will make a kick ass leader.

When the undead start knocking at your door, meet me at my house with a cricket bat and a sawed off shotgun.

We are gonna save the world.