Wednesday July 11 Third day of work and I almost missed the bus

The third day was not so bad. I mean, I met some more nice people and it looks like it will be interesting work.

But. I had to catch the 6:56 bus to make sure I was at work by 8:00 for an 8:00 meeting. The 7:19 bus should get me to work in time for that, but on Tuesday, it was late. My new boss warned me that the big boss is very punctual and I shouldn't be late.

Primo is bragging that he doesn't even have to take a shower to go to work, much less commute.

So I got up at 5:50 a.m. to catch the 6:56 bus. I left the house at 6:45. It takes me six minutes to walk to the bus stop. As I got to the street with the stop, I heard the bus coming.

Early.

Panic.

I waved the bus down. He stopped. I got on and accused him of being early. He said he was not. One of the passengers said, "You need to look at the schedule, honey."

They were right. I was wrong. I had misread the schedule. I barely made the bus. If I had missed it, I would have had to wait almost half an hour for the next one.

But the good thing about getting to work so early was that I should have been able to leave early. Right?

After all, on my first day, my boss told me we were not paid to work past 40 hours.

But when I got to work, my boss and the big boss were both there already for a 7 a.m. phone call. So I waited and waited for them both to leave at 4:00. So I could leave at 4:20.

But they didn't leave.

And didn't leave.

And I thought, "My third day is not the day to buck the culture. An extra half hour won't kill me." Even though I wanted to go home so badly.

I left on the 5:16 bus instead.

Sigh.

When I got home, Primo had made the bed, done the dishes, brought the trash can in from the curb, gotten supper, and cleaned the cat box. And he said that if I set everything up and showed him how to use the washing machine, he would wash the sheets on Friday.

So it's getting better.

But I'm still not excited about his having a bunch of people over Thursday night for political stuff. Still, I told him I would vacuum and wash the floors tonight.

"Why?" he asked.

"So your political friends don't see how messy the house is," I answered.

"Don't worry," he said. "I won't let them out of the living room."

So we're cool.