July 08, 2004

Nothing that a $1,000 prescription couldn't fix.

I sometimes wonder if I have anxiety issues. Rather, I'm pretty certain that I have anxiety issues and I sometimes wonder if they're more serious than I give them credit for. On a related note, I've decided to finally create categories to classify my blog entries and this entry is going in Neuroses.

I have a three-month employment review today. My immediate boss is taking me to lunch at a tasty Mexican restaurant in the neighborhood and we're going to talk about, as she puts it, my future here. To stay until September as a temporary employee? To stay longer as a permanent employee? This is the question.

As I may have mentioned, my immediate boss is a very friendly and casual person. She's not particularly intimidating. I'm fairly certain that we'll be having a pleasant lunch conversation rather than a terrifying military tribunal. She's complimented me frequently on my logic, attention to detail and half a dozen other qualities one might desire in an administrative assistant, so I very much doubt that I'll get any nasty surprises along the lines of, "You're terrible and we don't want you here anymore." I've already decided that if her idea of permanent employment meshes with my idea of a couple of years before going back to school, I'll happily stay.

One might wonder, then, precisely why I'm so damned nervous. I'm getting jittery halfway through my cup of tea, which is a sure and familiar sign that what's bothering me is not the caffeine but the nervousness. Oh, and I had a dream two nights ago that I went in to work but spent the whole day in my bedroom listening to music instead of at my desk working, realizing at the end of the day that I shouldn't have done that and I was going to be in a world of trouble. Thank you, Mister Subconscious. Thank you so very much.

Posted by dianna at July 8, 2004 10:18 AM