Truth

I started a new job yesterday. And, as you might expect, it's brought up a whole host of questions. My last job started with much potential and hope, yet it ended in a cul-de-sac. I made good friends and learned that, despite my prior desires, I do not want to spend the rest of my days as a copywriter. So that was a much-needed experience.

Back to the new gig. The people are so incredibly lovely. I can't imagine my good fortune at working with such smart and kind people, including my boss. On paper, my boss really is all you could want for a boss. I say on paper because I hardly know my line-manager at this point. Oh, sure, I know things like children's names and after-work plans. I know frequent flier numbers and credit card details. I know that we drive the same car and share the exact same birthday (odd). But that's about it. How my boss reacts to stress? Not sure yet. To my mistakes? Thankfully I have to learn that one in the coming days. To disappointment? Nada. So it's a paper trail and a handful of conversations I have to go on. So far, my boss seems to be Wonderboss.

May I break for a short disclaimer? You won't mind, I hope. I've no idea of this blog's readership. I hope to increase it...maybe. But for now, it's a purely personal space, one that is admittedly self-indulgent. I'm not aiming to meet deadlines so that I can share the latest finds from the glorious Internet; I'm just writing. And I hope now that I'm in this new job--in this new lifestyle--I'll write here more frequently. So, with that in mind, I'm keeping some things very vague. I'd be devastated to air someone else's personal struggle here.

Anyhoo, the weeks leading up to my first day, I had a few nightmares about my new job. The most common issue my sleeping mind struggled over was how cool I am. Seriously. You'd think my mind--sleeping or awake--could tackle more pressing issues, but that's what bothered me. To many, my boss is ultra "cool," and this intimidated me. I could go into detail, but I'll just say when I got access to Wonderboss' rolodex, all my suspicions were confirmed: Wonderboss is the ultimate tastemaker for some, the supreme last word on matters of music for others, and a bit of an idol for a handful. I, on the other hand, am the walking antithesis of Wonderboss.

WB--may I call my boss that?--is a grounded person. Case in point, upon my arrival at the office yesterday, I was given WB's desk...by WB. Where did WB sit? On the desk adjacent to mine because, you guessed it, I was sitting in WB's chair. WB is proud to drive an older Honda Civic. WB flies coach. WB is a hands-on parent. All of these things, WB does with a manner of humility.

I, on the other hand, am wrestling with humility. And it is Wonderboss who has unknowingly pointed that out.

You see, I am sometimes ashamed when I pull up to a valet stand in my 2002 Honda Civic. I blush when people figure out I am 33 and not married/not a parent/not even in a blasted relationship. I want to rush through the conversation when people ask me what I do for a living. Somehow, I've become embarrassed of my life. Yet I chose, and continue to make choices, to live this life. I chose to stay in LA, which led to forgoing a job writing for someone else, which led to taking an executive assistant job with Wonderboss. I asked for this. So why am I blushing and coveting Audis?

In the end, I can only answer by acknowledging I have put my faith in the backseat. Maybe something else drives you; for me, faith in God is my true north. And I can assure you that God doesn't care one bit about the car I drive or what my title is.

We're all struggling to fit in our own skin, I suppose. Some just hide it better than others.

Photo is from the album cover, "All Is Wild, All Is Silent" by the band Balmorhea.