Protocol/New Girl

I am one of four females in a forty-person office.
One of four.
The place is quiet. Really quiet. Scary quiet.
It is populated by developers and they've never really had to sell or market.
They go by nicknames, not by actual names.
This is because everyone is named Mark, Stu, or Matt.
Even the females.
They have office protocol they have you read.
One is "How to cope with the phone."
The instructions:
You may notice from time to time a strange buzzing or ringing sound emanating from a box-shaped item located on some, but not all persons desks. This is called a telephone. To activate the phone pick up the small, funnel-shaped stick (known as the receiver) which is attached to a spiral code. Say "Hello." Should you not wish to activate the phone simply let it sit and buzz or ring. Eventually this should stop.
They also have office protocol on toasted sandwiches, and one on milk delivery.
The milk delivery should come with flow chart and algorithm.
This is because, I fully believe, one day someone really got irked about the milk situation.
There are ratios of milk to beverage to consider.
Today, a soap protocol appeared.
Being that I am now, officially, surrounded by developers this sort of amusing, yet passive-aggressive behavior is probably going to be common.
I think I will do fine.
I'm the new girl, after all.
But I miss the loud sales folk.
I miss my friends.
My office.
The things that I considered mine.
And I feel like a total muppet on my bicycle.
A complete newbie.
Such mixed emotions.
It's strange, really strange, to be new.

On new beginnings.

Monday I start my new job.

Six weeks, it's been a solid six weeks of searching. At week seven the windfall came. I had three solid days of interviews, and magically - an offer.

I will tell you, at first I was excited. But then, here's the really weird part, I became incredibly sad. You see, it's because I realized I am honestly about to leave my old self behind. That the four plus years I spent in one spot have had their chapter book closed.

Now, here's the deal. I've gotten some AMAZING friends out of that. Some incredible, wonderful people who I will keep in touch with, visit, and stay with, for years upon years. And even though I technically haven't been working with them for seven weeks, I feel like I'm leaving them. Like I want them all to come with me.

I have a great friend who once wrote to me, "When God closes a door he pushes you out a window." That's how I feel. I've agreed to free fall into a new space, a new place. I'm scared and excited and just like my job before this one - hopelessly wishing I could take everyone from my prior job with me. When I was interviewing - and this might creep people out - I was imagining their little ghost-like presences all over the room. My mentors, my friends. Sometimes I wished they could be there, holding my hand. (I honestly can say this, interviewing right now is tough. Really tough. I doubt I'm the only one out there wishing they could answer questions whilst gripping the hands of their most supportive friends and loved ones.)

So, I guess in a sense I am wrapping up this small (thank goodness) chapter of uncertainty, but with a sort of mournfulness. My whole world has decided to change. The most true, inevitable thing in life you can expect, but even still it comes unexpected. And when I go into work on Monday, holding the invisible hands of everyone who supported me so far, I hope to take new hands who will lead me forward into even better places.