So I have a job (WOO!) and until a few minutes ago I would have said the best thing about it was the Jetsons-style hot-beverage machine in the pantry. It’s from a company named Flavia, and this is how it works: you select your beverage of choice from a touch-sensitive panel. If you want something other than plain hot water, a little hatch below the panel pops open. This is your cue to load in the little nozzled packet of tea/coffee/foamy topping from the display rack next to the machine. Then you close the panel, place a paper cup in the niche below the hatch, and stand by while the machine makes buzzy noises. Finally, a stream of whatever pours into the cup, and a message appears on the screen cautioning you that your beverage is hot!

I made Flavia’s acquaintance lsat Thursday, and we’d been getting along fine. The coffee was a little watery, but it was hot and drinkable enough when properly adulterated with sugar and Coffeemate. Then, today, I noticed a pack labeled Japanese Green Tea in the rack! “Yay antioxidants!” I said, and got myself a cup.

Thing is, the green tea? Is really green. Like, pea green. I’ve drunk green tea before, usually prepared in the traditional bagged leaves and microwaved water fashion, and I’ve never seen any this shade before. It’s kind of unsettling.

Hopefully, tomorrow I will remember to bring in some of my home stash.

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Oh, right, the job—thanks to Axion, I’m currently an office drone in the Science and Medicine Division of the Publicis Medical Education Group, a subsidiary of Saatchi & Saatchi.

So far I’ve spent most of my time processing the contracts mailed in by the attendees of an Ambien CR Speaker Training Meeting in late March. This involves checking to see if they mailed in both of the required two copies, unstapling one and chicking it for changes and/or missing pages, logging the date of receipt in an Excel database (and adding the contract type—local speaker, faculty member, thought leader(?)—if that information is missing), scanning the unstapled copy and e-mailing it to my computer, re-stapling the scanned copy, converting the scanned files to .pdfs, and filing the hardcopies.

Yeah, it makes my eyes glaze over, too. Plus, using the staple remover over and over numbs my right thumb and forefinger. On the upside, I am, at least theoretically, earning money—I shall remain skeptical until I receive my first paycheck, which should occur this Friday.