“Please step into the door,” the automated voice in the revolving door says to me every morning when I walk into the offices at Whirlpool. It has become the cue for me to be present and shift gears into work mode.
The movers came Tuesday, and I began the physically and emotionally challenging journey of making my new house a home. They unpacked my stuff at my request, but they can’t put anything away so it just laid in piles on the floor. Michael says he hates the “unpacking” option because it’s too overwhelming, but I prefer it because I hate dealing with boxes. It’s one more gigantic task I have to do in an already overwhelming job. I decided Tuesday night that I would “let sleeping dogs lie” until I got home from work on Friday. I was tired, and I just couldn’t face the task before me.
Work is intense, but I’m starting to really love it. With a new job the task is overwhelming. Learning new names and new people and new processes and an environment can be exhausting. And I am in the middle of a project where even the long-time employees are looking at deadlines and shaking their heads in disbelief. It’s a lot for this curly-haired gal who craves lots of downtime and peace.
So this week when I’d walk up to that door and hear her say “Please step into the door,” I’d take a deep breath and try to pull up energy from the earth. It was a gigantic mental and energetic shift, and I knew that it would be full bore all day long. Whirlpool’s office design is ideally suited for the way I work. I have a cubicle where I can light, but I spend the majority of my day in “huddle rooms” that are scattered all over the building. If I need to meet with a coworker, we just grab a room that is equipped with a full-size projector so we can share screens, a phone and a comfortable space to work. There are also “focus rooms” where I can hole up and work individually. Since we have big screens on the walls where we can view the same documents, we rarely have to print things, but, when we do, we print to our badge. We can access our print queue anywhere across the Twin Cities. Whirlpool has many offices here, and though I don’t move around much, many people do. In my opinion, many of the obstacles to work are removed, and I feel completely supported to do what I need to do.
We worked full bore Friday until 5, and I came home to my mess at home. I thought I heard a woman at my back door say, “Please step into the door”, but I quickly realized there was no automated door, and this task was not going to be easily done. I took a deep breath and decided to at least put my clothes away in the small closets of this 100-year-old home. It wasn’t an easy task as the best closets are on the top floor, but I managed to make it work. Once I got started I couldn’t stop, and I was once again running from room to room – at home this time. I have a basement, a main floor, and an upper floor. I crashed at 10 PM, but I managed to get my bedroom and dressing area completely set up. By the time my friend Kathy got here at 10 AM Saturday, I was ready to hang pictures and start cleaning up. We spent all day Saturday hanging pictures and decorating.
I cooked a late dinner at home Saturday night. I put a load of clothes in the wash, and I set up my yoga space for my nightly meditation. There is work to be done, to be sure, but this morning I’m drinking my coffee on my favorite chaise with all three of my fur babies resting beside me. They are tired, too. They LOVE the stairs and all of the different levels. So they’ve been climbing stairs and exploring ever since things got a little cleaned up Friday. We are all tired and happy to be home at last.
Tomorrow when the lady asks me to “Please step into the door” I will feel more rested and settled. The revolving door of work will not be so daunting. I’ll know that I have a place to rest when the day is over. I will have lunch to pack and dishes to pack it in. The drama that began on July 2 with a request to send my resume to Whirlpool is now complete. Let the adaptation begin!!
Now excuse me while I cook breakfast and go back to bed.