Today (well, it's a holiday, but anyway) marks the 3rd "weekliversary" in my new job. The panicky feeling of "Any minute now, the impostor-uncovering task force will come knocking and drag you away from your desk" which was at the back of my mind the first few days has subsided and I've allowed myself to think to myself that, yes, we can do this.
Last Friday my boss remarked that he to him it felt as if I'd been there at least a month already and I can't but agree. Not that I have forgotten the good things about Coma HQ in any ways, least of all FCN and all the other sweeties - quite the contrary, but I've already got used to the little things like eating a proper (restaurant! on expenses! jealous?) lunch every day instead of continuing my staple diet of pumkinseed roll with rucola and prosciutto.
Mind you, I haven't set foot into a shop (gasp!) in my lunch-hour since April 26. Time to change the title of this blog? Naaah, not unless I stop indulging in retail therapy on weekends and whenever I get the chance. Speaking of which...this...erm...person, a friend of a friend of a friend, who was in Dublin for training the other week managed to make the best of the comporatively liberal shop opening hours and ended up with a "heavy" tag on her suitcase on the return flight.
I'm digressing. In a nutshell, I just wanted you to know that I might not have as much time for blogging anymore, but I'm happy, which is the mean thing.
Plus my colleague, he makes a mean macchiato: