Another theoretical dollar. I can't wait for June 30, because then I'll be able to see what my paychecks will look like. And once I know for 100% certain the amount of moolah I'll be bringing home each pay period, I can adjust the lovely budget spreadsheet I developed to approximate my expenses, right down to the amount of money I shell out per month on hair products and dry-cleaning.
I love lists and spreadsheets. They make me happy.
Thursday, I broke away from the software tutorials to which my last three days have been devoted and actually did some work. This meant that I had to go pick up my computer from the guys that reformatted the hard drive for me, of course.
Consequently, the first thing I did once I got to work Thursday was to leave. I turned around, went to the seedy computer guys, received the computer from the claws of the tattooed and scantily clad receptionist, and returned to the office to hook it up.
I have never assembled a Mac before. It's incredibly easy. You sit it on a desk, plug X into Y, and Z into - erm - ZZ and then you turn it on. At this point, you realize that you don't have a keyboard, so you take one from the OLD SCHOOL Mac that sits unused and unloved on the end of a table, then you plug in your fancy schmancy new mouse, and you're ready to go!
At this point, you realize that - in the process of reformatting the hard drive - all of the local settings are gone. Also, the Microsoft Office programs are gone, and you can't figure out how to configure your email. And when is the guy that knows how to rectify these situations returning? Monday? Oh, okay. Well, you have your company email on your iPhone, anyways, so that's not really that big of a deal.
In reality, the real work I did Thursday amounted to about two hours of work, if that, because I started working on the new software, realized I didn't know how to do something, had to research to figure out why it wasn't working, yadda yadda yadda, and it was 5:30 and I had to leave to get my hair cut.
In other news: these guys trust me way too much. I will alone in the office with the receptionist tomorrow. No one else will be there, except maybe for Oldsmobile, who sometimes drops by on Fridays, but not often, and only when there's work to do, which there won't be for him tomorrow.
I also met with our rock star lighting designer. I mean that literally. He is in a punk band. And he's in his 40s.
I think I'm going to love this job.