The Journey Is Only Beginning

I’ve spent the last two weeks working insane hours, pouring intricate information and policies into my head, and navigating survival in a college dorm without the essentials (i.e.: MICROWAVE/cooking utensils. Hello, cereal, dining hall, and restaurants. As a side note, I would estimate I spend 63% of my time plotting and/or stealing cereal from the dining hall – I sneak in a GIANT ziploc bag, fill up three bowls with dry cereal, and casually stroll over to a table cleverly out of sight of staff. Yes, snotty girls at the table next to me judging my food choices, I AM planning to eat all this. DUUUMP!).

In between the madness that is training, there has been the quadruple madness that is orientation. I have cleverly disguised this in my past, but I’m not particularly fond of orientation, either as a participant or a staff member. But even I grudgingly admit that it is valuable – but only once I am on the other side of the 15-hour days that working orientation entails (and that’s as a pro staff – I mostly just have to wear a suit, sound professional, seem trustworthy so parents feel comfortable sending their children abroad with me, and I don’t have to do the evening activities).

But my predictions were true – this was my lovely self for pretty much the last two weeks. (TECHNICALLY, last night I celebrated by watching A League of Their Own. I had a craving.)

Last night in the debriefing someone mentioned how they were sad: “Man, I can’t believe it’s all over!” Then they started and realized – wait a minute – it’s only just beginning!

As long-term planney as I am (technical term – I have a Master’s degree, after all), I somehow repeatedly manage to forget the fact that, you know, I haven’t even started my job yet. I’ve had these parents come up to me and tell me that it makes them feel soo much better knowing I will be there with their child and all I think is “THIS GUY?! REALLY?!” A month from today, I will be LIVING in London, preparing to welcome little freshies into my American arms. Before that happens, I have to actually gain a grasp of what I will be doing, sightsee the hell out of Boston (something I have failed UTTERLY to do thusfar), have my “final moments” with all of my friends, and go BACK home (and finally eat what I’ve been craving – orange pork chops with rice – I had no idea how difficult it would be to live without kitchen stuff – WHAT DID I EAT FRESHMAN YEAR?!).

Literally the only thing I remember eating.
So I will spend the next few weeks getting my wits about me and trying to do as much as I possibly can – which started today with casually getting lost. I was never aaactualllly lost, since I knew the general direction I needed to go, but I intentionally selected my route based on which streets were prettiest. Very official. But it did allow me to stumble across hidden gems like this community garden:

After that? Besides eating a few Oreos, I have no idea. I know I get on a plane to Norfolk August 7. I know I get on a plane to London August 14. But the steps I have to take before those things occur? Complete and utter mystery.

Told you I would end with a cat.


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