Since starting my new job a couple of months ago, I've hardly said a peep about how I've been getting along there. Of course, now that I've committed to posting every day for the rest of the month (so help me God), I can no longer bump the topic out of my brain every time I want to chat about brownies or numb feet or brownies. (But ohmygawd, I am so craving a brownie right now...)
I'm happy to report that I am having a blast at the job. Some changes have been interesting, like the fact that my workplace seems to be 80% Francophone. It's been a quick learning curve, but my French came right back to me after being buried under years of neglect. Welcome back, French!
My new workplace has a Gym like my last one, which is exciting, because I am on a mission to get in decent shape before I die. But it's at The Gym where I struggle the most.
See, I am cool with nudity in the change room. If you have read this blog for more than a minute, you are aware that I am not much of a prude.* But running around nude in an anonymous Gym locker room is different than doing so with your co-workers. I get a bit jolted when I see fellow workers peeling off their thongs and skipping (nay, leaping) over to the showers. Or you know what's fun? When you are bending over to tie your shoe, and you notice that someone has bent over right in front of you to remove their sweaty shorts.
What's going to happen when I'm formally introduced to these people? They'll lean in to shake my hand and I'll say, "Oh, of course. I didn't recognize you at first. I've met your labia."
*HAH! That's what I like to call an understatement.