New is not yet normal

It says something about my athleticism that after one day of standing and handling books, I feel as if I've been beaten all over with a bag of oranges. Gravity, my natural enemy.

The first day went very well. Keys! Circulation! New co-workers! Donut holes! I accidentally broke the donut box and had to scramble and juggle to save them all before everyone came back in the room. Some ended up in my face. I think I won.

Then I was given a cupboard. 

This is who I replaced. FFS.

I replaced the sign with one that says, "Holly's cupboard. Something is in it." Which is a bit long for a sign, but still pretty clear. It isn't like a stop sign, which needs to be very short, and not say something like, "STOPPING IS REQUIRED UNDER PENALTY OF TICKETING AND POSSIBLY EVEN DEATH".

Feeling good about the job. And myself, as a professional and good citizen. And the strengthening of my pudding muscles into springy librarian jerky. Feeling less good about the backed-up milk supply I am smuggling around in my shirt, and about my baby learning to fend off slobbery daycare babies, but we are both adjusting pretty well.

Next: fun with 6-week payroll lag.