This week will be my third week of working full-time. I'm already fatigued :) It feels like an exercise I haven't performed in a long time, and which my muscles have forgotten how to do. I'm hoping I'll feel more in-shape soon. I do get a kick out of the rituals of the work week: the ratio of talk:action that increases as the week goes on, the little snacks/breaks/walks to the bathroom that break up the day, the many crises (both real and imagined/invented) that add spice to the day. A big crisis is looming - the switch to a new accounting and shipping system in August - and the fear and panic about all of its possible forms both invigorates and paralyzes the whole office.

Ironic post-modern moment of the week: I got pulled in to act as clerical and administrative aide for a couple of new green initiatives, one of which involves pricing and researching the switch to recycled copier/printer paper. My coworker, who normally orders the office supplies, was excited about this, and assured me that recycled paper costs less than what we get now. I was pretty sure that it costs more, a fact which was confirmed later in the week. However, I realized that the foundation for my "knowledge" on the subject was a line from "The Office" in which Jim comments that he will be offering recycled paper to his biggest client, for 1 cent more per sheet. Ah, expertise. How easy you are to come by!

The weekend was a melange of small pleasures. I took the train down to Middleboro/Lakeville to meet Keith on Friday afternoon. I was reading a satisfying entry in the "chick lit" genre, and had iced tea, brie, and grapes to graze upon. Seeing Keith was wonderful - that first glimpse upon debarking is really thrilling. So is the coy flirtation we practice during the first several minutes of conversation. There was lots to say, so the drive went quickly. We knew exactly what to get for dinner, and enjoyed Keith's signature enchiladas. Saturday morning was pleasantly lazy, then we geared up for the Russia-Netherlands match of Euro2008. It was a thrilling game, not least because Keith was moved to alternate bouts of joy and agony by the play. Russia won, devastating Keith and secretly thrilling me, the devious underdog-supporter. That night, we watched a great little independent romantic comedy called "Wristcutters: A Love Story", with several nice performances and a great, gravelly turn by Tom Waits as an undercover messiah/saboteur. We also had some good conversations, Keith was finally able to explain his thesis topic in a way I could comprehend, and we made out like bandits at Kohl's. All in all, a good weekend, albeit one that sped by much too swiftly.