It is FINALLY official. The Receptionist TBA has been announced and the news is fan-freakin-tastic. As of March 22nd, I'll be handing off the Up Front duties to none other than the brilliant and sunshiny BULLISH (aka my little big sister Ruth). Last year at this same time, my dear Shirley vacated the Up Front desk and while they were looking for a replacement, it occurred to me that Bullish would be perfect at this desk. She's cheerful, efficient and knows how to amuse herself (aka look busy) during the downtime.
So when the new Shirley took a job in another division, everything kinda fell into place. Bullish took the test, nailed the interview and was unanimously selected before anyone knew she was my sister. We've all been holding out breath for the last couple of weeks while the details got sorted out, but the call came this morning there was rejoicing all around.
Pop on over to Bullish Ink and say hello.
I've got some desk cleaning to do before the now-announced The Receptionist TBA gets here.
The Receptionist TBA has been selected, investigated and prodded for deficiencies (of which, we hope and expect, she has none). There is nothing left but the waiting waiting waiting game. I try to stay cheery, but oh how I miss my standing desk and soothing blue tapestries, my tucked-away cubicle in the bowels of the department. I think perhaps I'll crawl beneath the big desk here and nap for a while. You'll wake me when it's time to go home, right?
Super Receptionist just got scooped up by another department. I guess that makes her Ex-Super Receptionist or Super Ex-Receptionist. Either way, this is good news for her and for the Receptionist TBA. In the meantime, however, I am holding down the fort and/or holding court Up Front.
I've got Keaton Heston, Norah Jones and Nick Drake wafting through the speakers and a fully stocked candy jar. For myself, there's an icy Cherry Water in an insulated cup and Maria Balinska's The Bagel: The Surprising History of a Modest Bread on my Kindle.
We're gonna be just fine.
Super Receptionist was sniffling yesterday.
Don’t come in here sick tomorrow. I told her, mentally calculating my own sick days and knowing I didn’t have enough to cover catching her cold.
So Super Receptionist is OUT for the day and Slightly Less Super Receptionist is IN.
I am not, by nature, a good receptionist. I tend to get lost in my own head or hyper-focused on the task in front of me.
Tuning out other people and ignoring your surroundings while deep in thought are not desirable qualities for this particular position.
I’m getting better at it though.
I don’t know why you don’t believe me.
How are you?
How am I what?
One of my contact lenses is wonky. I desperately want to claw it out of my eye, but I’m covering for the receptionist Up Front and a clawed-out-eyeball isn’t exactly welcoming to the public.
So now, I’m inadvertently winking a weepy eye at everyone who comes through the doors. It’s already awkward, sitting beneath a sign that proclaims Mo-Town “a safe, active and vibrant city where people choose to raise a family, grow business and enjoy life.”
Most people snicker at it. Every once in a while, someone snaps a photo and you have to duck behind the monitor so you’re not in the shot that they’re about to send out on Instagram with a snarky caption.
It’s not like I wrote it, man.
In the book, in fact, I called it a dirty little tweaker town, which I sometimes feel bad about.
Not real bad, but, a little.
Growing up, we all wanted to get out of here and most of us did. When J. and I returned, we met people who love it here, who stayed on purpose. We got a peek into the art community and the local music scene. (both quite lovely) We met people who were actively working to make this town a better place. They’re why I feel bad about the dirty little tweaker thing.
I’m not saying I’m gonna get all mushy and embrace the place but I’m working on loathing it less.
Now about this eye …