Four Days Down, Rest of My Life to Go

Rants and Raves on working downtown.

To begin with the maintenance men at this downtown office building dress better than me! They dress better than the owner and CEO of Onlineshoes.com. Here they were all decked out in navy slacks, navy polartec vests, baby blue dress shirts with their dark ties tucked neatly in the shirt, with their tool belts on their hips and a screw driver in their hands as they tackled some "move in" problem.

I have arrived into an uptown world.

Uptown for this low down gal. There are signal lights, cross walks, traffic, high rise garages, buses, commuters, umbrella carriers, briefcase and backpacks galore, long long long lines at Starbucks, and eighteen restaurants in a 360 degree view, maybe more. There are grills, bars, trattoria's, sandwich shops, teriyaki, Ethiopian, Mexican, and Italian. Pizza -- of course. Subs -- of course. World famous corned beef and I don't know what all else. I can't see Lake Union, but there soars The Space Needle practically at my nose. It is a different landscape. An alternate reality.

There is a special shuttle for Metropolitan Park employees to Pikes Place Market and Nordstroms. I need to check that out. And a free bus ride zone downtown. I need to check that out.

On my first 26 mile commute it was pouring down rain, I couldn't see the highway white lines, there is a fricken lot of traffic at 4:15 am, my I- 5 on-ramp was closed so I had to take the long way around and I was denied access into the parking garage. The new office space was overheating, phones didn't work properly, doors didn't shut properly, drawers didn't open properly, Seattle was flushing it's water system and the water might be brown, but other than that it was all good.

On the second day I had a beautiful moonlit morning then a weaving semi loomed out of no where and scared the beJesus out of me. Then I was trapped in the parking garage. I wasn't denied access at the garage door, but once I had entered and the garage door came down the barricade didn't go up. STUCK. I now know how to get both the door and barricade to cooperate. Like Jerry told me once, "You have to be smarter than the door."

I have the glint of the early morning sun reflecting off plate glass, I have the aroma of exhaust wafting, I haven't heard an owl or seen a coyote, there is an occasional homeless person wandering into view, the wide open spaces is the second floor deck that sweeps over an acre of space yet is denied for human consumption, it hasn't been inspected by the fire marshall or something, I forget what. You use your access key to key into the garage -- twice, and into the building, and onto the elevator, and into your office. Then if you go to the break room or bathroom or out to lunch you have to key back.

It's surreal.

Lynn asked me if I was enjoying the gorgeous skyline view of downtown Seattle on my early morning commute. I had to admit that so far I can't say I have admired the view, but it's coming. I'm still in that over stimulated, new nervousness, what the hell am I doing mode.

Sensory overload.

I'm beginning to feel like a lump of clay being molded into something different. Forged anew. Beaten into a sword. Or is it plowshares?

I am grateful for a job, I'm not homeless.
Eyes to see the glint of the sun.
A car for the commute.
Gas for the fumes.
Feet and shoes for walking.
Good looking and spiffily dressed maintenance men.
Brand new environment.
I sit right above I-5 and can see the traffic snarl at eightish in the morning that I am not a part of. I am grateful for that.
I am grateful for being forged anew.

And the bathroom is lovely.

Life isn't always the sound of an owl in the distance.