Inside the Salt Mines: Day 6

Week 2 started a lot like Week 1, except this morning I inadvertently slept in and hit the office about 15 minutes late.

There's more stuff to do today, versus last week when I sat here with nothing to do, positive my boss would see that and fire me immediately.

Now I feel like I've got enough to do that when I screw up anything, that will be the last straw and I'll be told to fuck off home. That won't actually happen -- I know that in the part of my brain that is rational -- but it doesn't ease the anxiety much.

Beyond that, it still feels like I'm on vacation in the world's most uncomfortable destination. Almost nobody talks to me, or needs to, and even though I'm figuring out the layout of the buildings, whenever I get where I'm going it feels like I'm an intruder.

It's times like this I have to remember that it's a job and that I'm not here to have a good time, but to make money, which I am doing. It's an easier realization at home, though, when my wife is there to hug and I can sit on the couch and feel the heater and eat the food that I'm paying for.

Still, I haven't gotten away from that familiar feeling I used to get at The Paper. You know, the one where your internal clock says, "I don't know how long we'll be here, but it doesn't seem like it will be much of a wait."

Of course the last time I felt like that, 5 years rushed past in about a month.