Bobbing along, bobbing along.

Every time I start a new job, I’m exhausted for the first month. The energy required to learn all those new things and faces just bleeds me dry.

I’m having a new job flashback at Corporate Behemoth. I am in the midst of learning new team members, their responsibilities and personalities. I’m trying to be open and honest, and accepting of new information and procedures – even if my soul is screaming, “Why the hell do you do it like that?”

I’m an editor. We tend to be precise. And judgmental.

At 3:12 this afternoon, I had to go to Starbucks. I couldn’t ask any more questions. I couldn’t learn anything else. And I certainly couldn’t be nice anymore.

The rest of the afternoon was spent huddled in my cube, dreaming of the night ahead.

I have a hot date tonight with my life partner, DVR. He’s feeling neglected, what with me having a life with Mr. Wonderful out amongst the three-dimensional world. But what DVR and I have together is real. No one understands me like DVR. And he doesn’t judge.

Remember when I had HBO and I became fascinated with Cathouse? (I defy you to name a better brothel reality show. Rock of Love with Bret Michaels doesn’t count.) DVR didn’t ask questions – he just recorded all the new episodes and didn’t waste my time with the reruns. That’s a true friend.

And those countless yoga and Pilates shows that I won’t delete but never actually watch or exercise along with? DVR says it’s all good. We have 100 hours of storage, baby. You gots plenty o’ space to spare.

Tonight, I have Ugly Betty calling my name. However, I also have Bedknobs and Broomsticks recorded from this weekend. If Angela Lansbury as a witch with animated aquatic friends won’t invigorate me, well, I’m in a sorry state, indeed.