I give the French too much credit.
The imaginary French (who live only in my head) all have eight months of vacation, public school systems that not only teach their children math but also offer advanced culinary classes, a healthcare system so all-inclusive that they’re like the weird War of the Worlds alien blobby things who eradicated disease entirely on their planet, all in addition to only having a three day work week in the first place.
Further research has indicated that that’s not all entirely accurate. But it doesn’t stop me from believing that the French way of life is more relaxed, and wishing that I could adopt it. Segue-lly speaking, this week I got to feel French: I started my internship on Tuesday, and finished my work week up today, Thursday.
The three-day work week was perfect. No matter what job you start, the first week is always hard, simply because it is your first week. The severity of this difficulty depends on the field, I would imagine, but I don’t care if your first week is in the new police department with an aging cop who is just days away from retirement (thereby ensuring that your week is filled with near-death experiences, explosions, and at least one teary goodbye) or at the Taco Bell in the mall; there’s a learning curve, man, and until you have a weekend off to regroup mentally (and physically, if you were running from explosions all week), you will NEVER be at your best that first week.
But three days was exactly what I needed. I woke up at 5:30 on Tuesday, twitchy and nervous as I have been on every first day of everything since I started kindergarden. I made myself all fancy, put on my suit, took a lint roller to it (I meant business, dang it!) and went to work.
The Pentagon itself is awesome enough to deserve a separate blog post, but for now, may it suffice it to say: I feel like I’m working in a mall. A magical, magical mall.
Work itself: My office is AWESOME.
Every single person in the department I work in is the nicest human being ever. “What?” you say, skeptical as ever, dear reader. “That is grammatically impossible! ‘Nicest’ is a superlative, and only one of your co-workers should have that title!” To you I say, shut up, and this is my blog post, and for serious, they’re super nice.
I know you’re not supposed to talk about work itself on the Internet because people hear, so I won’t do much, but I have to say that I do genuinely love them. I’m super useless around the office because I still don’t have Internet access (a saga unto itself), but each and every one of them has taken time out of their busy schedules to sit down with me and really truly talk and help me understand what they do. And that is an awesomeness that cannot be overstated.
So after the first day of getting introduced to people and getting the badge/computer process started, I had a couple days to chat with people, get to learn what they do, and most importantly, eat. The eating is good. Several of the people in my office warned me, half-seriously, about the “Pentagon 15” that new staffers tend to put on because of all the food in the building (but alas, that is a story for another time).
Three days really was perfect, though. Without Internet, I can’t do any of the external research that my boss (who is ALSO the nicest person ever) suggested I do to get started, so instead I’ve been spending my days reading. And reading. And reading. And then I read some more. And after that I open a new folder on budget regulations, and read that. And then someone mercifully comes by me and suggests we go for more food, and then I remember that yes, life is indeed worth living.
So as much as I love work, I’m glad that my first week is over. Because now it will never be my first week here again; the learning curve is never over, but I can only get smarter and more useful from here on out. And I’m so in awe of my office, all I want to do is be smart enough to contribute, in any small way possible. Three days was just enough time to figure that out. Instead of being overwhelmed or tired, I find myself smiling, excited to go in to work on Monday.
Maybe this is why the French seem happier than we are?
politics and other shenanigans 