The Runup to the Rundown, Part 3

Called up my mom after lunch to tell her the good news.

K.T.: Mom, I got the job.
B.T.: That’s great, what’s the company?
K.T.: L.M.
B.T.: Oh.
[PAUSE]
B.T.: Spell that?
[K.T. STARTS SPELLING]
B.T.: Wait, what?
[K.T. CONTINUES SPELLING]
B.T.: Oh, OK, I can ask coworkers about it.
How much do you make?
K.T.: X.
B.T.: Oh, that’s wonderful!

Five minutes later, she calls back.

B.T.: K.T., that’s wonderful, L.M. is a good company, everyone has heard about it.
I thought you were working in a tiny place.

That’s my mom.

I wore my button down shirt and jeans in to work. This immediately made everyone suspicious. E.N. asked me if I had known not to wear what I wore into the interview, thank you for having so little faith in my abilities. I told her, J.R., Z.M., and A.M. the news. Most people, whether they meant it or not, tendered congratulations. J.R., however, had written technically in the past. Her warnings and words of wisdom have not gone unheeded. For the most part, her predictions were correct. I just didn’t have that many choices. She also stated several times that maybe I wouldn’t like it and I would return to N.C.I. If it were feasible, I’d do so. Oh, would I ever.

The last few weeks played out with them putting me on emergency live captioning and transcribing soap operas until letters squeezed their way out of my nostrils. Also fond farewells from good people, and promises to keep in touch. On my final weeks, I even volunteered for treat duty and baked some rice krispie squares at seven in the morning. This was so disorienting to A.W., he actually wondered whether I was baking, or he was developing a brain tumor.

The weirdest thing about saying goodbye, aside from having to do so, and that I still visit every other week to say hello and waste their time, is that we all work on different shifts. In effect, this drew out my farewell over three days. Wednesday’s set of farewells were the first, and since my week wasn’t over, didn’t feel real. Friday’s, I was just anxious to get out and get out now, because, like an idiot, I’d decided to start work the following Monday, and needed to get acclimated to my new nine to five schedule immediately. Thursday’s was the worst, as that was pretty much the only day where it really felt like I was saying goodbye.