Day one,week one; a new beginning

Day one

I’m awake.

I know it’s not yet time to get up.

But I’m awake.

I’ve had a restless night.

Not that unusual, but today is one of those day I really want to go well.

I’m itching for the day to start.

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Sitting on the train, the breakfast I compelled myself to eat sits like a heavy lump in my stomach.

I shouldn’t be this nervous.

It’s not a new organisation I’m suddenly pitching up at. I know this place well. Yet the role I’m about to start has me both excited and a little anxious.

A fantastic opportunity.

I’ve worked hard for it.

My palms tingle with sweat, as I make my way into my new office.

A deep breath.

I fix my smile.

Good morning everyone…

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I’ve said hello to those people around me. Some are familiar faces, others not.

There are looks of expectation. And judgement.

But then I’m doing the same. Trying to gauge each person, within the few minutes we spend introducing ourselves.

I make my way into my new office.

Leaving my door open. My way of keeping a connection with people even though the temptation to enclose myself in peace and quiet, is strong.

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It’s mid-morning and I’m carefully sipping my tea.

The sigh comes involuntarily.

It’s almost been an anti-climax.

I expected to be deluged by requests, new information to get my head around, urgent decisions to make.

But so far I’ve given my desk a through clean, found places to store my stuff, and sorted through and fended off email that I can now pass on or try to avoid getting into.

I realise that it’s not going to be simple to step away from my previous role. People know who I am, know I’m still here and can still chase me.

It’s going to take me some time and effort before people recognise me in my new role.

Somehow the morning feels almost wasted time.

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Musing over lunch that my day has been quieter than expected, meeting requests begin to trickle into my inbox.

By mid-afternoon it’s turned into a steady flow and my next 12-18 months fills out with meetings. Rapidly.

Somehow this feels satisfying. Perhaps it’s because this feels like recognition that I’m here, that I’ve started?

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I’m on my way home and the nervousness has dissipated.

I’ve introduced myself to the people I’ll be closely working with, requested meetings with key people I want to meet, read through an array of documentation and started to formulate some plans in my mind.

There are still all the things that I need to tie up or extricate myself from. But somehow, I’ll have to make it clear it’s not mine to deal with anymore.

My calendar is full with meetings.

I’m going to be busy.

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It’s the end of the first week.

As I lock my office door, the knot in my shoulder twinges, and a stab of pain runs down my arm.

I briefly close my eyes.

Time to go home.

The first day was almost honeymoon-like.

After that the deluge hit.

Word must have got out that I had started.

My calendar is not just full, it is bursting.

Meetings are back-to-back and overlapping.

I’ve had a multitude of conversations, formal, informal, set-up, impromptu.

Competing requests.

Overload of information.

No space to breath.

Let alone eat.

As for getting on with doing something productive…

I console myself that at least this way I’m finding out what’s going on around me pretty quickly.

Right now, I need a little bit of rest.