Pro - Motion

It has to be better than an antimotion, because that's pretty much what I had been feeling like I was doing for the last few weeks because my coworker is so good at her job.

I started at the new position on Tuesday, and it was like a mind-warp from "ooh, this is an interesting and complex company run by the uber-hip" to "OMFG-how-the-hell-does-this-place-keep-running-if-they-depend-solely-on-people-like-me-to-do-stuffffffff?!?" I found that the department I transferred to consists solely of two women, the manager and the girl, and that this department of two is responsible FOR EVERYTHING WORKING. I was thinking... why does that other department over there have forty million design school graduates walking around making music videos in their spare time, and this department only has two, and they graduated from ordinary school?

THEN I found out that the girl, she who enters the data that makes the denim world go 'round, is leaving for Italy for TWO WEEKS. On Friday morning. So I have to learn how she does all these things that she does by rote, and I'm thinking to myself "I'd totally be OK with being fired as soon as she gets back because I just cause a major disruption in the supply chain". And I totally would be OK with that.

Friday rolls around, and I started receiving e-mails that were purportedly relevant to what I'm supposed to be doing, only the thing is, I don't really have a clear picture of what exactly I'm supposed to be doing. I have pages and pages of disjointed notes that are like "hit F7", only I was in such a jotting hurry that now F7 is the most daunting step in my succession of keys. F7 could either do something like accept date entry or it could be the self-destruct key. I forgot to write that part down. So I'll hit F7 and duck as if shards of monitor are about to be embedded in my skull, and then the DOS-based program (green screen!) will beep like an Apple IIe when you shot a buffalo on Oregon Trail because I didn't move my cursor off the screen and then hit F7, so the cycle of fear begins again.

I will keep posting as I continue floundering in the quicksand of too much unrelated information in my e-mail inbox. Luckily, the girl that used to work in the department called and said "I feel REALLY sorry for you because you have no idea what's going on at all. I'll stop by on Monday and see how I can help you." Thank God for her. Apparently the whole company knows that I must and do feel like a uncultured white girl from a hick town set down smack in the middle of Los Angeles. Oh wait.